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RIJSKIM  IN  OXFORD 

ANI>  OTHER  STUDIES 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

Ex  Lihris 

SIR  MICHAEL  SADLER 

ACQUIRED  1948 

WITH  THE  HELP  OF  ALUMNI  OF  THE 

SCHOOL  OF  EDUCATION 


Thornton  &  Son. 

Booksellers, 

1 1    The    Broad, 

Oxford. 


'Tify 


I, 


\ 

RUSKIN    IN    OXFORD 


J"  is./HcCi£u^  ^  cy:jv/!.e.i'i^^-r 


cycm^ny  cyouA/i>i 


'oc^zy. 


RUSKIN  IN  OXFORD 

AND   OTHER   STUDIES 


By   G.    W.    KITCHIN,   D.D.,   F.S.A. 

DEAN  OP  DURHAM,  AND 
HONORARY  STUDENT  OP  CHRIST  CHURCH,   OXFORD 


LONDON 
JOHN  MURRAY,  ALBEMARLE  STREET,  W. 

1904 


/ 


PREFACE 

No  connecting  thread  runs  through  this  httle 
volume  of  Papers  on  Uterary  and  historical  sub- 
jects ;  neither  unity  is  here,  nor  a  moral.  I 
can  but  offer  it  to  an  indulgent  world  as 
the  work  of  my  holiday  times,  and  as  being, 
in  certain  cases,  autobiographical  sketches,  which 
the  self-esteem  of  an  old  man  ventures  to 
place    before    the    public. 

Indeed,  my  only  reason  for  wTiting  this 
preface  at  all,  is  to  find  a  place  in  which  to 
thank  my  friends  who  have  allowed  me  to 
reproduce  papers  read  before  august  societies, 
and  so  to  gain  their  kindly  smile  for  my  effort. 
In  a  day  in  which  newspapers  and  magazines 
have   taught   the   world   to    read    in    scraps    and 


(i;^ia4'i5 


Yi  PREFACE 

in  "five  minutes"  with  the  best  or  the  worst 
authors,  no  apology  is  perhaps  needed  for  the 
disconnected  elements   of  this   little  book. 

If  it  pleases  any,  if  it  lightens  a  tedious 
hour,  it  will  have  done  the  work  fitted  for  it, 
and  will  also  fulfil  the  chief  object  which  the 
writer  of  these  desultory  pages  had  in  view. 

Deanery,  Durham, 
July   1903. 


CONTENTS 


PACK 

I.    RUSKIN    AT    OXFORD,    AS    AN    UNDERGRADUATE  AND    AS 

SLADE  PROFESSOR  .....  1 

A  Lecture  deliverrd  at  Biriningham  to  the  Buskin  Society, 
uth  December  1900,  and  reprinted  bi/  the  kind  j^ermis- 
sion  of  the  Editor  of  the  ^^  St  Georr/e  Magazine." 

II.    THE   STATESMEN   OF   WEST  CUMBERLAND  .  .         55 

An  Attempt  to  (to  honour  to  my  Ancestors;  repi'inted 
by  kind  permission  from  the  ^^  Northern  Connties 
Magazine"  (a.d.  1901). 

III.    WHITBY     ABBEY,      A     STUDY     OF      CELTIC      AND     LATIN 

MONASTICISM  .  .  .  .96 

A  Lecture  given  before  the  Co-OjKraiive  Home-Heading 
Union  at  IFhitbij  {a.d.  1899). 

IV.    DURHAM    COLLEGE,    A   GLIMPSE    OF    MEDIEVAL    OXFORD      155 

A  Lecture  given  before  the  University  of  Durham  (a.d. 
1898). 

V.    THE   STATUTES   OF   DURHAM   CATHEDRAL  .  .      206 

Read  before  the  British  Archceological  Society  at  Durham, 
July  1901  ;  and  reprinted  with  their  kind  leave. 

vji 


viii  CONTENTS 


PAGE 


VI.    THE  NORTH  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH   CENTUBY  :    A    PASSAGE 

IN   THE   LIFE   OF   POPE   PIUS   II.    (a.D.    1901)  .      225 

A  Visit  of  JETieas  Sylvius  Piccolomini  {afterwards  Pope 
Pius  II.)  in  1435-36  ;  reprinted  from  the  "  County 
Monthly  Magazine,"  by  kind  permissimi. 

VII,    DANTE  AND  VIRGIL    IN  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA  .      255 

An  Address  delivered  at  the  College  of  Science,  Newcastle- 
on-Tyne,  on  20th  January  1900. 

Vni.   THE  BURIAL-PLACE  OF  THE  SLAVONIANS:   NORTH  STONE- 
HAM   CHURCH,  HAMPSHIRE  ....      283 

Head  before  the  London  Society  of  Antiquaries,  1894  ; 
and  reprinted  by  their  kind  permission. 

IX.  THE  FONT  IN  WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL       .       .   303 

Eead  before  the  British  Archceological  Society,  \st  August 
1893  ;  and  reprinted  by  tlieir  kind  permission. 

X.   AN   ADDRESS   ON   BISHOP   BUTLER  .  .  .      325 

Given  in  Durham  Cathedral  at  the  Unveiling  of  his 
Memorial  Tablet,  March  1899. 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

John  Ruskin.     From  the  portrait  hy  Sir  John  E. 

MiLLAis,  Bt.,  P.R.A.  {photogravure)  .         Frontispiece 

A  Statesman's   Farm   House  in  Cumberland 

(Hardingill,  Gosforth)  .  .  .  To  face  page    68 

Whitby  Abbey  .  .  .  .  .  „  144 

JEneas  PiccoLOMiNi,  Ambassador  to  the  King 
of  Scotland.  From  the  fresco  hy  PiNTU- 
RiCCHio,  in  the  Bihlioteca  at  Siena    .  .  „  236 

Grave  Slab  of  a  Guild  of  Slavonians,  1491  .  „         284 

The  Font  in  Winchester  Cathedral  .  .  „         308 

The  Font  at  Zedelghem,  near  Bruges  .  „         314 

Bishop  Butler.    From  a  portrait  in  the  Cathedral 

Library  at  Durham  (jihotogravure)    .  .  „  328 


JOHN   RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

I — AS    AN     UNDERGRADUATE    (1837-1841)  ;     AND    AS 
SLADE     PROFESSOR     OF     FINE    ARTS    (1869-1879, 

AND  1883-1885). 

About  twenty-five  years  ago  I  was  asked  to  dine 
at  the  Deanery  in  Christ  Church.  On  sitting  down 
at  table,  1  found,  to  my  great  gratification,  that 
on  Mrs  Liddell's  right  hand  sat  Lord  Selborne, 
and  on  her  left  JMr  Gladstone,  so  that  they  could 
talk  across  the  table.  Mrs  Liddell,  an  admirable 
hostess,  knew  how  to  promote  good  conversa- 
tion, and  listened  with  good-will  and  sympathy. 
Happily,  I  sat  near  enough  to  hear  what  they  said. 
When  the  conversation  drifted  to  the  chansres 
lately  introduced  at  College,  I  pricked  up  my 
ears ;  for  Mr  Gladstone,  with  all  the  fervour  of  his 
strange  Toryism,  was  laimching  out  into  a  warm 

A  1 


2  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT    OXFORD 

denunciation  of  these  measures  of  reform,  much  to 
Mrs  Liddell's  amusement  and  gratification ;  while 
Lord  Selborne,  across  the  table,  tried  to  hold 
a  brief  for  the  newer  state  of  things.  It  was 
a  curious  and,  to  our  critical  Oxford  eyes,  a 
delightful  spectacle — the  Liberal  Prime  Minister, 
lamenting  over  the  lost  old  ways,  while  the 
ex-Lord  Chancellor  defended  these  tremendous 
changes.  It  was  as  if  all  Oxford  were  rocking 
to  her  foundations ;  for  the  matter  discussed  was 
an  order  lately  issued  by  the  Dean,  that  in 
future  all  distinctive  differences  of  dress,  and 
all  differences  of  fees,  for  Noblemen,  Gentleman- 
Commoners,  or  Servitors,  should  cease,  and  that 
Undergraduates  should  be  of  two  classes  only ; 
Scholars,  wearing  their  comely  gown,  and 
Commoners,  condemned  to  that  sorry  garment 
which  all  Undergraduates  naturally  despise. 
The  great  lawyer  mildly  defended  this  move ; 
it  was  with  characteristic  vehemence  opposed 
by  the  statesman.  Mr  Gladstone  held  that  the 
distinctions  of  the  outer  world  should  have  their 
echo  in  Oxford ;  that  it  was  a  lesson  in  the 
structure  of  Society ;  that   it  protected  poor  men 


CHRIST   CHURCH   REFORM  3 

from  the  temptations  to  high  expenditure.  He 
unconsciously  repeated  WilHam  SewelFs  dictum 
about  Radley,  that  "  a  pubhc  school  ought  to 
be  a  microcosm  of  the  State " ;  a  dogma  which 
that  old  Platonist  tried  to  illustrate  by  a  very 
funny  scheme  of  Gentleman-Commoners  in  Radley 
College.  On  the  other  hand,  Lord  Selborne 
gently  pleaded  for  the  far  nobler  principle,  that  a 
University  was  a  Republic  of  Letters,  and  that 
the  world's  distinctions  would  but  confuse  such 
a  community,  and  should  as  far  as  possible  be 
effaced  in  it :  he  did  not  argue ;  for  argument 
would  have  been  out  of  place  at  the  table ;  he 
let  himself  be  overborne  by  JNIr  Gladstone's 
eager  eloquence.  Presently,  the  talk,  dinner- 
fashion,  drifted  away,  and  left  us  puzzled  and 
amused.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  Ruskin 
himself,  speaking  of  these  changes,  showed  that 
he  was  in  full  sympathy  with  Mr  Gladstone. 

"  It  had  never  dawned  on  my  fiither's  mind 
that  there  were  two,  fashionable  and  unfashionable, 
orders,  or  casts,  of  undergraduate  life  at  Christ 
Church,  one  of  these  being  called  Gentleman- 
Commoners,    the    others    Commoners ;    and   that 


4  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT  OXFORD 

these  last  seemed  to  occupy  an  almost  bisectional 
point  between  tlie  Gentleman  -  Commoners  and 
the  Servitors.  All  these  'invidious'  distinctions 
are  now  done  away  with  in  our  Reformed 
University.  Nobody  sets  up  for  the  special 
rank  of  a  gentleman,  but  nobody  will  be  set 
down  as  a  commoner ;  and  though,  of  all  people, 
anybody  will  beg  or  canvass  for  a  place  for  their 
children  in  a  charity  school,  everybody  would 
be  furious  at  the  thought  of  his  son's  wearing 
at  college  the  gown  of  a  Servitor." 

So  he  speaks  in  his  "  Prseterita,"  ^  as  to  which 
work,  of  vast  interest  and  beauty,  a  true  successor, 
in  a  latter  age  and  tone,  to  Goethe's  Wahrheit 
und  Dichtung,  Mr  Ruskin  once  said  to  me  at 
Brantwood  that  he  was  very  sorry  that  he  wrote 
it  when  he  did  ;  "  for  if,"  said  he,  "  I  were  to  write 
it  now,  it  would  be  very  different."  He  did 
not  go  on  to  say  how  his  notions  had  altered ; 
or  how  it  could  be  improved  ;  in  truth  he  was 
failing  in  strength,  and  past  all  writing  at  the 
time.  It  shows  how  one  may  repent  of  one's 
best  work,  and  feel  that  it  lacks  that  divine 
something  which  one  recognises  in  the  best 
writing ;  and  so  we  repent  for  having  said  our 
1  "  Pra;terita,"  vol.  i.  10,  pp.  285-289. 


AS   A   GENTLEMAN-COMMONER  5 

best  sayings  or  for  writing  our  purest  English, 
and  for  having  endowed  the  world  with  priceless 
treasures. 

But,  you  will  say,  what  are  the  bearings  of 
this  tale  ?  It  is  this :  it  was  strange  that  INIr 
Gladstone  in  making  his  case  for  these  dis- 
tinctions, and  in  defending  the  old  order  of  things, 
which  emphasised  classes  far  more  than  the 
outer  world  did,  actually  omitted  the  one  argu- 
ment which  Ruskin  had  seen  and  understood, 
namely,  that  the  velvet  cap  and  silk  gown  of 
a  Gentleman  -  Commoner  might  sometimes  be 
valuable  as  a  protection  to  persons  of  original 
character,  and  not  of  the  ordinary  schoolboy  and 
undergraduate  form,  persons  who  in  the  rough 
and  tumble  of  school  and  college  would  have 
fared  badly,  and  might  have  had  all  the  sensitive 
beauty  of  their  natures  marred  by  the  Philistine 
ignorance  and  rudeness  of  the  upper  classes.  It 
is  not  too  much  to  say  that  had  Ruskin  entered 
among  the  two  hundred  Commoners,  instead 
of  being  one  of  tlie  twenty  or  so  Gentleman- 
Commoners,  wc  should  have  been  permanent 
losers.     For  he    needed    some    sunshine   to   coax 


6  JOHN   RUSKIN  AT  OXFORD 

out  his  gifts :  the  first  flower  of  his  genius  might 
have  been  checked,  if  his  angles  had  been  rubbed 
down,  as  Tennyson  has  it,  "  in  yonder  social 
mill " ;  his  bright  thought,  and  the  nobility  of  his 
character  might  have  withered  away  under  the 
cutting  blasts  of  stupid  criticism.  As  it  was, 
his  father's  ignorance  of  Oxford,  and  his  anxiety 
to  do  the  best  he  could  for  his  only  boy,  a  boy 
so  clever,  so  affectionate,  so  dutiful,  so  full  of 
promise,  led  him  to  blunder  into  the  right  thing, 
for  his  good  and  our  gain. 

For  what  was  John  Ruskin  in  1837,  when 
he  went  up  to  Oxford  ?  ^  In  the  first  place, 
you  must  remember  that  he  knew  absolutely 
nothing  of  that  vestibule  of  university  life,  the 
public  school.  He  brought  thither  no  school 
friendships,  a  vast  difficulty  for  a  shy  lad ;  he 
knew  nothing  of  those  ancient  traditions  which 
weld  school  and  college  together  so  closely,  that 
critics  declare  with  truth  that  for  most  youths 
the  university  is  nothing  but  school  over  again. 
For    Ruskin,    however,     this    very    lack    turned 

^  His  actual  Matriculation   is  entered  as   on  20th  October 
1836  ;  he  did  not  go  into  residence  till  the  January  following. 


AS  A   GENTLEMAN-COMMONER  7 

out  well :  the  University  became  a  real  teacher 
to  him,  a  new  experience,  a  true  "  Alma  Mater " : 
it  opened  a  brilliant  world  before  him.  In  these 
four  years  everything  changed,  and  life  was  beau- 
tifully enlarged.     As  he  says  '? — 

"  the  velvet  and  silk  made  a  difference,  not  to  my 
mother  only,  but  to  me  !  "  And  in  his  enthusiasm 
for  such  small  distinctions  he  declares  that  "  none 
but  duchesses  should  wear  diamonds,  that  lords 
should  be  known  from  common  people  by  their 
stars,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off ;  that  every  peasant 
girl  should  boast  her  country  by  some  dainty  cap 
or  bodice ;  and  that  in  the  towns  a  vintner  should 
be  known  from  a  fishmonger  by  the  cut  of  his 
jerkin." 

Well ; — if  so,  Ruskin  would  never  have  been  a 
Gentleman-Commoner,  and  his  enthusiasm  would 
have  exploded  himself!  The  vintner's  son — for 
that  was  what  he  really  was  en  gros — could  never 
have  worn  velvet  and  silk. 

Ruskin     then     came     up     to     Oxford  almost 

without  a  friend  ;  he  knew  no  school  lore,   hardly 

had    his    grammar    in    orthodox    fashion ;    worse 

still,  he  was  hel^^lessly  defective  in  the  important 

'  "  Proeterita,"  vol.  i.  p.  28j. 


8  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

science    of    games.      Games    in    1837    were    not 
what  they  have  since  become  ;  yet  the  camaraderie 
of  the  playing-field,   mother  of  many  wholesome 
friendships,  a  stage  for  mimic  play  of  life,  existed 
already.     Of  all  this  he  was  shockingly   ignorant 
and  indifferent;  I  think  his  position   was  all  but 
hopeless.     Lastly,    in  the  midst  of  a  very  aristo- 
cratic   group    of    lads,   how  could    he,   with    his 
relations  in  trade,  large  or  small,  with  his  baker 
cousins  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  hold  his  own,  and 
take   his  proper   part   in  the   daily   life  of  Christ 
Church  ?     Again,   how   would  his    undergraduate 
friends   tolerate  the   fearful  fact   that  his  mother 
came   up   to   keep   terms   with    him,  living    in   a 
lodging  in  High  Street,  watching  over  his  health, 
and    expecting   a    dutiful    visit    from    him    every 
evening?     Everything  seemed  against  him.     Still, 
somehow,  he   did  make   his   way.      The  truth   is 
that    Christ   Church   is   very    like  the    House   of 
Commons   in    temper ;  a   man,   however   plain  of 
origin,  however  humble   in  position,    is    tolerated 
and    listened    to   with  respect,    if    he    is    sincere, 
honest,  and  "  knows  his  subject."    This  is  why  the 
Christ   Church    Gentleman  -  Commoners   accepted 


HIS   FIRST  TERM   AT   COLLEGE  9 

Ruskin  readily  enough  ;  they  found  that  the  boy 
was  full  of  ingenious  and  really  genuine  thought, 
and  that  he  had  travelled  widely,  and  had 
profited  by  his  travels  ;  they  saw  that  he  was  in 
essentials  a  true  gentleman.  He  was  also  fortunate 
in  meeting  on  his  first  appearance  at  "the  Long 
Table"  in  Hall,  a  pleasant  young  fellow,  Mr 
Strangeways,  with  whom  he  had  been  detained 
at  the  Grimsel  in  a  storm,  and  who  had  been 
interested  in  his  clever  drawing  of  rocks  and  snow. 
Let  him  give  us  his  own  account  of  his  debut 
in  College  :  ^ 

"  As  time  went  on,  the  aspect  of  my  College 
Hall  to  me  meant  Httle  more  than  the  fear  and 
shame  of  those  examination  days  {i.e.  the  Terminal 
Collections)  ;  but  even  in  the  first  surprise  and 
subUmity  of  finding  myself  dining  there,  were 
many  reasons  for  the  qualification  of  my  pleasure. 
The  change  from  our  front  parlour  at  Heme  Hill, 
some  15  feet  by  18,  and  meat  and  pudding  with 
my  mother  and  ^lary,  to  a  hall  about  as  big  as  the 
Nave  of  Canterbury  Cathedral,  witli  its  extremity 
lost  in  mist,  its  roof  in  darkness,  and  its  company, 
an  innumerable,  immeasurable  vision  of  vanishing 
perspective,  was  in  itself  more  appalling  to  me  than 

*  "  Praterita,"  vol.  i.  pp.  297-300. 


10  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT  OXFORD 

appetizing;  but  also,  from  first  to  last,  I  had  the 
clownish  feeling  of  having  no  business  there." 

"  In  the  Cathedral,  however  born  or  bred,  I 
felt  myself  present  by  as  good  a  right  as  its 
Bishop — nay,  that  in  some  of  its  lessons  and  uses, 
the  building  was  less  his  than  mine.  But  at  table, 
with  this  learned  and  lordly  perspective  of  guests, 
and  state  of  worldly  service,  I  had  nothing  to 
do ;  my  own  proper  style  of  dining  was  for  ever, 
I  felt,  divided  from  this — impassably.  With  baked 
potatoes  under  the  mutton,  just  out  of  the  oven, 
in  the  little  parlour  off  the  shop  in  Market 
Street,  or  beside  a  gipsy's  kettle  on  Addington 
Hill  (not  that  I  had  ever  been  beside  a  gipsy's 
kettle,  but  often  wanted  to  be) ;  or  with  oat-cake 
and  butter — for  I  was  always  a  gourmand — in  a 
Scotch  shepherd's  cottage,  to  be  divided  with 
his  collie,  I  was  myself  and  in  my  place ;  but  at 
the  Gentleman  -  Commoners'  table,  in  Cardinal 
AVolsey's  dining-room,  I  was,  in  all  sorts  of  ways 
at  once,  less  than  myself,  and  in  all  sorts  of  wrong 
places  at  once,  out  of  my  place."  ^ 

And  he  adds  just  below,  speaking  of  the  Society 
to  which  he  has  just  been  added  : 

"  1  had  been  received  as  a  good-humoured  and 
inoffensive  little  cur,  contemptuously,  yet  kindly, 
among  the  dogs  of  the  race  at  the  table ;  and 
my  tutor,  and  the  men  who  read   in   class  with 

1  Collingwood's  "Ruskiii,"  p.  94. 


HIS   RECEPTION  AT  COLLEGE  11 

me,  were  beginning  to  recognise  that  I  liad  some 
little  gift  in  reading  with  good  accent,  thinking  of 
what  I  read,  and  even  asking  troublesome  questions 
about  it,  to  the  extent  of  being  one  day  eagerly 
and  admiringly  congratulated  by  the  whole  class 
the  moment  we  got  out  into  quad,  on  the  con- 
summate manner  in  which  I  had  floored  our  tutor." 

And  this  view  of  himself  is  just  what  they 
felt.  I  have  seen  a  letter  written  by  JNIr  Hughes 
Hughes,  who  was  a  contemporary  of  INIr  Ruskin 
at  Christ  Church,  in  which  he  briefly  says  of  him 
that  "  at  this  time  (undergraduate  days)  Ruskin  was 
only  famous  as  a  sort  of  butt,  and  not  a  genius." 
And  Mr  Aubrey  Vere  de  Vere  says  of  him,  on  the 
publication  of  vol.  i.  of  "  JNIodern  Painters  " :  "I 
am  told  that  the  author's  name  is  Ruskin,  and 
that  he  was  considered  at  College  as  an  odd  sort 
of  man  who  would  never  do  anything." 

Thus  his  Oxford  life  began,  not  unhappily ; 
the  Christ  Church  men,  of  that  day  and  after, 
being,  as  he  says,  "  contemptuous  yet  kindly  ' 
towards  a  man  of  gifts.  I  have  known  more 
than  one  who  would  not  have  escaped  so  well 
had  it  not  been  for  the  gilding  of  the  position, 
which  enabled  them  to  hold  their  own.     On  the 


12  JOHN   RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

other  hand,  Christ  Church  was  less  tolerant  than 
the  House  of  Commons  in  some  things ;  we  could 
not  stand  mean  fellows,  who  lacked  manliness  and 
straightforwardness  ;  for  these  we  had  our  '*  Scalae 
Gemoniae  "  ready  in  the  sacred  "  Mercury,"  whose 
waters  received  such  offenders  at  dead  of  night. 

And  by  his  innocence  and  harmless  vanity, 
Mr  Ruskin  must  have  tried  them  badly.  He 
tells  us  his  adventure  over  a  Saturday  essay, 
which  to  a  Christ  Church  man  of  the  old  world 
is  very  graphic.  In  our  day  (an  excellent  usage 
which  had  become  bad  with  that  exceeding  bad- 
ness which  marks  the  corruptio  ojotimi,  and  was 
abolished  by  Dean  Liddell)  the  Censor  of  Rhetoric 
posted  in  Hall  every  Saturday  the  subject  for 
next  week's  essay,  which  all  Undergraduates  had 
to  write  and  to  send  in  to  him  in  the  course  of 
the  next  week.  From  these  the  best  was  selected 
to  be  read  out  on  the  following  Saturday,  when 
the  whole  College  met  in  Hall.^ 

These  essays  were  often  a  mere  mock.    Randall, 
the   great   hosier    of    the    High,    who   afterwards 

^  Gentleman-Commoners'  Essays  were  looked  at  by  the  Sub- 
Dean,  who  acted  as  Censor  for  that  august  body  under  the  Dean. 


HIS   COLLEGE   ESSAY  13 

retired  on  a  good  fortune,  or  '*  Cicero "  Cook, 
the  learned  scout  of  Christ  Church,  used  to  under- 
take, for  a  consideration,  to  compose  the  views 
of  the  haughty  Undergraduate  on  the  weekly 
subject,  and  the  young  man  condescended  to  sign 
the  same,  and  poke  it  into  the  box  in  the  Tutor's 
oak.  The  rest  usually  aimed  at  filling  their 
regulation  three  pages  with  few  words,  long  and 
well  spread  out ;  we  all  came  to  regard  the  whole 
thing  as  a  useless  nuisance.  Ruskin,  however,  at 
first  took  his  new  life  and  his  new  duties  very 
seriously :  and  having  plenty  to  say  about  every- 
thing, and  being  ambitious  and  eager  for  literary 
writing,  set  himself  to  make  careful  papers.  "  I 
wrote  my  weekly  essay  with  all  the  sagacity  and 
eloquence  I  possessed,"  he  writes  in  "  Prseterita." 
No  wonder  that  ere  long  the  message  came  that 
his  essay  was  to  be  read  in  Hall,  a  most  unheard- 
of  incident,  for  which  tradition  liad  no  remedy : 
that  a  Gentleman- Commoner  should  read  in  Hall ! 
They  made  some  hvely  protest  wlien  they  heard,  as 
one  sees  from  a  letter  printed  by  ^Ir  Collingwood  : 

"  Going   out    (from   the    Sub-Dean's   house)   I 
met  Strangeways,  '  So  you're  going  to  "  read  out " 


14  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

to-day,  Ruskin !  Do  go  it  at  a  good  rate,  my 
good  fellow.'  Went  a  little  further  and  met  March, 
'  Mind  you  stand  on  the  top  of  the  desk,  Ruskin, 
Gentleman -Commoners  never  stand  on  the  steps.' 
I  asked  him  whether  it  would  look  more  dignified 
to  stand  head  or  heels  uppermost?  He  advised 
heels.  Then  I  met  Dysart,  '  We  must  have  a 
grand  supper  after  this,  Ruskin,  Gentleman- 
Commoners  always  have  a  flare-up  after  reading 
their  essays.'  I  told  him  I  supposed  he  wanted 
to  poison  my  rum  and  water." 

On  the  Saturday  the  whole  company  seated 
on  their  benches  sat  through  the  ordeal  without 
shrinking,  and  with  well-bred  indifference.  The 
Order  felt  itself  in  danger ;  still,  if  the  thing  was 
short  it  might  be  endured,  remonstrance  following 
after.  But  Ruskin's  essay  was  not  short;  he 
developed  it  carefully,  and  read  it  with  due 
emphasis,  astonishment  giving  place  to  wrath  in 
the  gilded  audience.  And  when  the  poor  lad 
ended,  and  walked  out  with  his  fellows — well, 
you  shall  hear  it  in  his  own  words :  ^ 

"  Serenely,  and  on  good  grounds,  confident  in 
my  powers  of  reading  rightly,  and  with  a  decent 
gravity  which  I  felt  to  be  becoming  on  this  my 

»  "  Pra3terita,"  p.  301. 


HIS  COLLEGE   ESSAY  15 

first  occasion  of  public  distinction,  I  read  my  essay, 
I  have  reason  to  believe,  not  ungracefully ;  and 
descended  from  the  rostrum  to  receive,  as  I  doubted 
not,  the  thanks  of  the  Gentleman- Commoners 
for  this  creditable  presentment  of  the  wisdom  of 
that  body.  But  poor  Clara,  after  her  first  ball, 
receiving  her  cousin's  compliments  in  the  cloak- 
room, was  less  surprised  than  1  by  my  welcome 
from  my  cousins  of  the  long-table.  Not  in  envy 
truly,  but  in  fiery  disdain,  varied  in  expression 
through  every  form  and  manner  of  English 
language,  from  the  Olympian  sarcasm  of  Charteris 
to  the  level-delivered  volley  of  Grimston,  they 
explained  to  me  that  I  had  committed  grossest 
lese-majeste  against  the  order  of  Gentleman- 
Commoners  ;  that  no  Gentleman-Commoner's 
essay  ought  ever  to  contain  more  than  twelve  lines, 
with  four  words  in  eacli ;  and  that  even  indulging 
in  my  folly  and  conceit,  and  want  of  savoir-faire, 
the  impropriety  of  writing  an  essay  with  any 
meaning  in  it,  like  vulgar  Students,  the  thought- 
lessness and  audacity  of  writing  one  that  would 
take  at  least  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  read,  and 
then  reading  it  all,  might  for  this  once  be  forgiven 
to  such  a  green-horn ;  but  that  Coventry  wasn't 
the  word  for  the  place  I  should  be  sent  to,  if 
ever  I  did  such  a  thing  again." 

I  think  they  behaved  beautifully,  considering : 
he  was  let  oflt'  very  easily. 

In  many  ways  in  these  young  freshman  days, 


16  JOHN   RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

he  was  saved  by  his  simphcity,  good  nature,  total 
freedom  from  vulgarity ;  while  his  quick  intelh- 
gence,  his  quasi-philosophic  way  of  bearing  re- 
proofs and  laughter,  and  his  unfailing  amiability  of 
temper,  carried  him  through.  But  the  character- 
istic which  helped  him  most  was  his  command 
of  an  excellent  and  even  curious  sherry  wine, 
coupled  as  it  was  with  obvious  and  pleasing 
hospitality ;  he  loved  to  dispense  his  good  things. 
They  also  found  that  he  could  keep  his  head, 
and  was  good  company ;  at  the  "  initiation  wine," 
which  every  new  Gentleman-Commoner  had  to 
undergo  early  in  his  time, 

"  Curious  glances  were  directed  to  me  under 
the  ordeal  of  the  necessary  toasts, — but  it  had 
not  occurred  to  the  hospitality  of  my  entertainers 
that  I  probably  knew  as  much  about  wine  as 
they  did.  When  we  broke  up  at  the  small 
hours,  I  helped  to  carry  the  son  of  the  head  of 
my  College  downstairs,  and  walked  across  Peck- 
water  to  my  own  rooms,  deliberating,  as  I  went, 
whether  there  was  any  immediately  practicable 
trigonometrical  method  of  determining  whether 
I  was  walking  straight  towards  the  lamp  over  the 
door."  ^ 

1  "Prseterita,"  vol.  i.  pp.  320-321. 


HIS    OXFORD    FRIENDS  17 

In  all  which  you  see  the  pleasure  with  which 
an  old  man  recalls  his  little  boyish  triumphs — so 
proud  that  he  could  "  keep  his  head,"  while  the 
stalwart  Gaisford  had  to  be  helped  home. 

Christ  Church  was  then,  and  still  was,  when  I, 
only  five  years  after  the  close  of  INIr  Ruskin's 
Oxford  days,  went  up  to  College,  a  nest  of  httle 
cliques  of  friends.  It  was  not,  like  smaller  Colleges, 
a  general  community,  nor  a  mere  aggregation  of 
clubs ;  it  was  a  place  in  which,  if  a  man  happily 
got  into  a  congenial  set,  his  four  years  were  the 
happiest  and  best  of  his  life ;  but  if,  through 
accident  or  by  foolishness,  he  dropped  into  an  idle 
or  vicious  set,  his  life  was  marred.  I  have  known 
shy  or  stupid  men  who  never  made  entry  into  any 
set,  and  who  hardly  had  half-a-dozen  acquaint- 
ances in  their  Undergraduate  age.  Ruskin,  in  this 
respect,  was  very  fortunate ;  he  had  two  social 
chances.  There  were  always  good  men  among 
the  Gentleman-Commoners,  though  the  most  of 
them  were  an  idle  lot,  dressing,  loafing,  gambling, 
through  the  divinest  years  of  their  life ;  yet  others 
were  of  a  good  courage,  ol'  good  nature,  and  good 

breeding,  who   have   been  afterwards  very  helpful 

b 


18  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT  OXFORD 

to    their    country :    all    these,   in   their    way,   did 
Ruskin  a  power  of  good,  by  rubbing  off  rust  and 
innocent  juvenilities.     Still  out  of  these  he  did  not 
make   his   intimate   friends ;    that   was    the    other 
chance,   and  he  happily  seized   it ;  they  "  set   his 
head  straight   for  life " ;   these  were   a   cultivated 
group  of  scholars   and  students,  the  antipodes   of 
the   exclusive   Gentleman-Commoners.     Yet  they 
were  men   of  good  family  also — Liddell,  nephew 
of  Lord   Ravensworth,  Acland,   son   of  a   sturdy 
old  Devonshire  Baronet,  and  so  on.     The  point  of 
connection,  electric  and  inspiring,  was  the  pencil, 
which  they  all  used  well ;  and  with  it  went  the 
power  of  these  young  men  to  discern  in  Ruskin  the 
germ  of  great  gifts,  and  to  encourage  the  tender 
flower  to  bud  and  blossom.      The  English  world 
has   much   to  thank  Christ    Church   for :    she   has 
educated  many  of  the  Statesmen  who  have  made 
their   mark   for  the  chief   part  of  the  nineteenth 
century ;   her  men  of  learning  and  devotion  have 
altered  the  complexion  of  English  thought.    Among 
these,  so  far  as  Ruskin's  influence  goes,  Liddell, 
Acland,    Charles   Newton,   and   Osborne   Gordon, 
deserve  an  especial  gratitude.     Art  is  a  new  thing 


HIS    OXFORD    FRIENDS  19 

since  Ruskin  has  spoken  ;  and  Economics  will  also 
ere  long  learn  the  lesson  he  has  taught  us,  and 
will  acknowledge  his  splendid  service  in  wedding 
economics  with  morals,  too  shamefully  di\'ided 
before,  and  so  making  room  for  a  nobler  form  of 
social  life  :  to  this  our  best  workers  are  awaking, 
as  they  become  aware  of  a  newer,  fuller,  and  more 
wholesome  existence.  Ruskin's  voice  has  had 
splendid  influence  already  among  working-men : 
the  old  bad  economy  of  "making  one's  pile," 
the  ethics  of  the  screw,  is  giving  place  to  the 
nobler  principles  of  combined  labour  already  seen 
in  operation  in  Boin-nville,  near  Birmingham,  and 
destined,  if  not  marred  by  the  forces  of  stupid 
selfishness  from  without,  to  recreate  the  "  merry 
England  "  of  our  happier  dreams. 

Of  Ruskin's  friends  I  will  put  Sir  Henry  Acland 
first. 

"  Fortunately  for  me,''  he  says, — "  beyond  all 
words,  fortunately — Henry  Acland,  by  about  a 
year  and  a  half  my  senior,  chose  me;  saw  what 
helpless  possibilities  w^ere  in  me,  and  took  me 
affectionately  in  hand.  His  rooms,  next  to  the 
gate  on  the  north  side  of  Canterbury,  were  within 
fifty  yards  of  mine,  and   became  to  me  the  only 


20  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

place  where  I  was  happy.  He  quietly  showed  me 
the  manner  of  life  of  English  youth  of  good  sense, 
good  family,  and  enlarged  education ;  we  both  of 
us  already  lived  in  elements  far  external  to  the 
College  Quadrangle.  He  told  me  of  the  Plains  of 
Troy ;  a  year  or  two  afterwards  I  showed  him,  on 
his  marriage  journey,  the  path  up  the  IMontanvert ; 
and  the  friendship  between  us  has  never  changed, 
but  by  deepening,  to  this  day."  ^ 

Sir  Henry  was  a  capital  draughtsman,  and  a 
man  of  large  outlook  and  grasp  of  mind.  His 
sympathetic  friendship  was  as  the  life-blood  of 
Ruskin's  later  and  more  important  growth  ;  though 
perhaps  Acland  never  quite  outlived  the  quasi- 
paternal  position  he  had  assumed  towards  the  quiet, 
sensitive  lad  in  1837.  He  was  fatherly,  kindly, 
cultivated.  He  enlarged  Ruskin's  little  scholar- 
ship by  taking  it  out  of  the  grammar-grooves,  and 
giving  him  glimpses  of  the  life  of  antiquity ;  the 
Plains  of  Troy  made  Homer  vivid  to  the  lad. 
The  group  was  one  of  scholars  who  were  also 
artists  ;  their  friendship  did  for  his  character  gener- 
ally what  Turner's  illustrations  of  Rogers'  Italy 
did  for  his  artistic  faculty. 

1  "  Pra;terita,"  vol.  i.  pp.  303,  304. 


DEAN   LIDDELL  21 

And  the  others  helped  too ;  thus,  Charles 
Newton,  who  was  afterwards  one  of  the  chief  men 
of  the  British  Museum,  greatly  inspired  him  by 
wakening  his  power  of  observation  in  classical 
antiquities,  and  in  the  study  of  the  principles  of 
architecture.  And  his  highest  praise  is  reserved 
for  Henry  Liddell,  Olympian  figure  among  men; 
whose  very  nobility  of  soul  kindled  vast  enthusiasm 
in  Ruskin's  greener  Ufe.  After  sketching  with  a 
firm  hand  the  two  tutors  who  were  then  at  the 
head  of  College  education  (Kynaston,  afterwards 
master  of  St  Paul's  School,  and  "  Old  Hussey," 
dryest  of  men,  most  "  censorious  of  censors,  a 
Christ  Church  Gorgon  or  Erinnys,  whose  passing 
cast  a  shadow  on  the  air,  as  well  as  on  the  gravel ")  ^ 
he  proceeds  to  describe  I^iddell,  not  yet  Dean,  as 

"  a  tutor  out  of  my  sphere,  who  reached  my  ideal, 
but  disappointed  my  hope,  as  perhaps  his  own, 
since ;  a  man  sorrowfully  under  the  dominion  of 
the  Greek  'aviyK-q.  He  was  one  of  the  rarest  types 
of  nobly-presenced  Englishmen  ;  but  I  fancy  it  was 
his  adverse  star  that  made  him  an  EngUshman  at 
all — the  prosaic  and  practical  element  in  liim  ha^'ing 
prevailed  over  the  sensitive  one." 

1  "  Prteterita,"  vol.  i.  p.  3U9. 


22  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT   OXFOHD 

This  is  a  fine  intuition  as  to  a  man  of  noble 
nature  whom  we  all  revered.  There  never  was  a 
man  so  capable  of  making  a  splendid  mark  on 
classic  art  and  learning,  and  on  the  severe  surface 
of  rigid  good  taste.  No  man  have  I  ever  known 
was  so  well  equipped  with  learning  and  capacity ; 
none  with  so  brave  a  grasp,  so  fair  a  judg- 
ment, so  tolerant  a  spirit;  none  who  ever  so 
serenely  bore  with  the  impatiences,  folhes,  im- 
pertinences of  the  young  men,  and  resented 
none,  forgot  them  all.  Liddell  was  hke  a  noble 
ship  under  reefed  sail  in  a  stormy  sea;  he  came 
through  the  waves  with  imposing  speed  and  move- 
ment, fearing  not  the  dints  and  breakages  of  the 
tempest,  always  sure  of  his  end.  Still,  had  he 
determined  to  press  on  with  his  higher  gifts  in  Art 
or  Letters,  he  might  have  left  behind  him  a  great 
reputation  as  a  critical  scholar;  instead,  he  gave 
himself  to  the  advance  of  Christ  Church,  and  has 
left  a  permanent  mark  on  our  ancient  walls,  fulfill- 
ing perhaps  a  narrow,  but  always  a  right  ambition. 
Shy  and  difficult  of  access  he  was :  so  that  Ruskin 
could  only  admire  him  fi-om  afar;  still,  one  may 
beheve  that  so  stately  an  example  of  high  character 


DEAN    LIDDELL  23 

and  unselfish  aims  worked  good  on  tlie  lad's 
character,  even  though  he  may  humbly  Mnite  :  "  I 
suppose  he  did  not  see  enough  in  me  to  make  him 
take  trouble  with  me ; — and  what  was  much  more 
serious,  he  saw  not  enough  in  himself  to  take 
trouble,  in  that  field,  with  himself."  ^ 

Ruskin  also  names  as  one  of  his  most  helpful 
friends,  that  most  characteristic  of  dignitaries,  Dr 
Buckland,  the  geologist,  father  of  the  still  more 
eccentric  and  lovable  Frank  Buckland,  our  college 
comrade,  whom  we  loved  even  better  than  we  loved 
his  bear,  and  who,  in  the  end,  gave  his  life  for  his 
fishes.  What  a  characteristic  remark  it  was,  with 
which  Frank  Buckland  ended  his  life :  "  1  suppose 
I  shall  see  many  strange  creatures  there."  Dr 
Buckland,  who  was  afterwards  Dean  of  West- 
minster, encouraged  Ruskin  to  draw  rocks  care- 
fully ;  some  of  his  drawings  are  still  to  be  seen 
in  the  Oxford  Geological  ^Museum.  It  was  Buck- 
land  who  turned  the  lad's  gaze  towards  the  history 
of  metals  and  minerals,  and  led  him  to  make  his 
wonderful  collection  of  rare  and  precious  things. 

We  must  not  omit  a  very  characteristic  man, 
1  "Prajterita,"  vol.  i.  p.  312. 


24  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

Osborne  Gordon,  who  seemed  to  provide  the 
opposites  for  Ruskin,  and  was  of  great  service  to 
him.  He  was  Ruskin's  tutor  and  valued  friend ; 
a  man  who  has  had  rather  hard  judgment  dealt  to 
him  in  Sir  Algernon  West's  INIemoirs.  Osborne 
Gordon  was  a  Shropshire  student,  lean  and 
haggard,  with  bright  eyes,  long  reddish  nose, 
untidy  air,  odd  voice,  and  uncertain  aspirates. 
He  was  one  of  our  most  brilliant  Salopian  scholars 
and  students ;  of  quaint  wit,  exquisite  scholarly 
tastes,  extraordinary  mathematical  gifts,  and  of  a 
very  kind  heart.  He  always  depreciated  what  he 
knew,  and  pretended  to  take  no  interest  in  the 
subjects  in  which  he  excelled.  After  Christ 
Church  he  took  a  College  living,  Easthampton 
in  Berkshire ;  we  all  wondered  how  he  would  do 
as  a  country  parson.  AVhen,  however,  after  some 
years  he  died,  one  of  his  Berkshire  farmers  said 
at  his  funeral: —  "  Well,  we  have  lost  a  real  friend  ; 
we've  had  before  parsons  who  could  preach,  and 
parsons  who  could  varm ;  but  ne'er  a  one  before 
who  could  both  preach  and  varm  as  Mr  Gordon 
did."  For  this  work  too  he  did  manfully  in 
his   way.     His   pigs   were   famous.     Ruskin    says 


OSBORNE    GORDON  25 

of  him  that  he  was  a  "  man  of  curious  intellectual 
power  and  simple  virtue,"  and  "  an  entirely  right- 
minded  and  accomplished  scholar."  ^  He  was 
also  a  fine  teacher,  and  helped  the  grateful  and 
studious  youth  forward.  His  weaknesses,  at 
which  we  used  to  laugh,  counted  for  little  in 
Ruskin's  mind;  so  completely  did  he  trust  him, 
that  when,  somewhat  later,  his  father  wished  to 
express  his  gratitude  for  the  good  his  John  had 
got  from  Christ  Church,  he  sent  Gordon  a  cheque 
for  £5000  to  be  given  at  the  tutor's  discretion 
for  the  augmentation  of  poor  and  needy  parishes 
in  the  gift  of  the  House. 

Last  of  all,  as  is  proper,  comes  the  Dean. 
Gaisford's  Scholarship  of  the  old  times  was  already 
almost  a  survival.  He  ruled  with  vigour ;  set  the 
University  Press  on  its  feet,  and  gave  it  the 
needed  impulse ;  he  despised  all  reforming  fancies 
and  infused  a  certain  Spartan  spirit  into  the 
College.  To  him  Collections,  much  dreaded  by 
lluskin,  were  the  most  serious  thing  in  an  Under- 
graduate's career ;  side  by  side  with  a  good 
Collection,  the  University  examinations  seemed  to 

^  "Prieterita,"  vol.  i.  p.  3U4. 


26  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

him  to  be  unimportant ;  he  counted  Class  Lists  to 
be  a  modern  abomination.  He  gave  the  Student- 
ships which  fell  to  him  to  the  men  who  did  best 
in  their  Collections,  while  he  rarely  condescended 
to  take  any  notice  of  a  First  Class  man.  His 
manner  of  rule  was  the  simple  plan  of  making 
his  own  laws,  and  then  appealing  to  them  as 
unchangeable :  it  saved  him  so  much  trouble. 
To  Ruskin  he  was  a  kind  of  "  gloomy  fate " ; 
his  loud,  fierce  voice,  his  miraculous  knowledge 
of  Greek,  made  him  seem  awful  to  the  lad,  as 
"  a  rotundly  progi^essive  terror,  or  sternly  en- 
throned and  niched  Anathema."^  Ruskin  could 
feel  no  sympathy  with  him ;  he  gave  him  a  due 
meed   of  distant  respect. 

This  then  was  the  company  of  the  learned, 
who  presided  over  our  friend's  University  growth. 
He  learned  much  from  them,  and  was  soon  more 
than  tolerated  by  his  comrades ;  they  elected  him 
a  member  of  the  exclusive  and  aristocratic  Loder's 
Club  (1  think  it  was) ;  and  he  seems  in  his  way 
to  have  enjoyed  his  Oxford  life. 

These  were  the  factors,  coupled  with  the 
1   "Pneterita,"  vol.  i.  p.  311. 


HIS    OXFORD    FRIENDS  27 

exquisite  beauty  of  old  Oxford,  which  moulded 
these  years.  His  love  of  Art  grew  more  distinctly 
''  Gothic,"  as  the  word  was  used — lie  was  fascinated 
by  the  constructive  side  of  the  science  of  Archi- 
tecture, and  felt  a  passion  for  the  splendid  work 
diffused  through  all  building  and  decoration  in 
the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries.  He  saw 
where  our  mistake  lies, — in  concentrating  all 
knowledge,  all  art  and  skill,  into  an  architect's 
office,  where  humble  clerks,  and  indifferent  work- 
men, make  mechanical  copies  of  their  masters' 
copies  of  art  which  had  been  alive  some  centuries 
ago.  In  consequence,  our  modern  Architecture 
is  uninteresting;  our  towns  dreadful.  During 
his  four  years  Ruskin's  skill  advanced,  though 
the  great  and  rapid  improvement  came  ratlier  later. 
The  extraordinary  delicacy  of  his  handling  became 
apparent.  I  have  a  Httle  tale  of  him,  bearing  on 
this  period,  through  the  kindness  of  Dr  Creighton, 
Bishop  of  I^ondon,  which  I  will  give  here  in  the 
Bishop's  own  words ;  it  describes  the  first  meeting 
of  Ruskin  with  Turner,  his  true  teacher  in  Art. 

"  It  was  told  me,"  he  writes,  "  by  old  Ryman, 
the  print-seller.     He  told  me  that  Uuskin   as  an 


28  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT  OXFORD 

undergraduate  used  to  frequent  his  shop,  and  some- 
times would  draw  in  his  parlour  from  the  prints. 
One  day  while  he  was  so  engaged,  Turner  came 
into  the  shop  on  business.  Ryman  told  him  that 
there  was  a  young  man  drawing,  and  took  him 
into  the  parlour.  He  looked  over  Ruskin's 
shoulder,  and  said,  '  The  young  man  draws  very 
nicely.'     This  was  the  first  meeting  of  the  two." 

And  Mr  Hughes  Hughes  adds  a  pretty  touch 
at  this  time : 

"I  myself,  on  June  2,  1838,  coming  home 
from  a  late  (or  early)  party,  found  Ruskin  sitting 
near  the  central  Basin  in  Tom  Quad  (we  called  it 
JNIercury,  from  a  fallen  God) ;  and,  looking  over 
his  shoulder,  was  charmed  at  the  sight  of  his 
beautiful  water-colour  sketch  (in  what  was  then 
called  Front's  style)  of  Tom  {i.e.  of  the  Tower). 
From  that  time  I  always  felt  great  respect  for 
Ruskin,  having  found  that  he  had  some  '  talent.' "  ^ 

In  1839  Ruskin  won  the  Newdigate  prize  for 
a  poem  on  Salsette  and  Elejihanta,  of  which  Mr 
CoUingwood  writes  that — 

"  He  ransacked  all  the  sources  of  information, 
coached  himself  up  in  Eastern  scenery  and  myth- 
ology, threw  in  the  Aristotelian  ingredients  of 
terror  and  pity,  and  wound  up  with  an  appeal  to 

^  Letter  by  W.  Hughes  Hughes,  Esq.,  22nd  October  1900. 


THE   NEWDIGATE    PRIZE  29 

the  orthodoxy  of  the  Examiners,  of  whom  Keble 
was  the  chief,  by  prophesying  the  prompt  exter- 
mination of  Brahminism  under  the  teaching  of 
the   missionaries." 

No   wonder  that   he   won   the   Prize,    though 
his  prophetic  powers  have  not  yet  been  justified. 

His  foreign  travel  gave  him  far  more  impulse 
than  Oxford  did.  He  had  come  at  the  close 
of  the  old  period  of  scholarship  at  Oxford,  and 
of  travel  abroad ;  for  he  was  one  of  the  last 
of  those  who  solemnly  made  the  Grand  Tour  in 
a  carriage,  specially  constructed  by  his  father  for 
it :  the  shorthand  of  railways  was  not  yet ;  they 
were  days  in  which  Cook's  tickets  and  conducted 
parties  had  not  been  invented;  foreign  travel 
was  still  an  education  for  tliose  whose  eyes  are 
opened :  and  whose  eyes  could  have  been  more 
keen  than  lluskin's  ?  "  Hereby,"  says  one,^  "  he 
escaped  that  fatal  insularity  of  mind  which  blights 
an  Englishman  abroad,"  that  ignorant  arrogance 
which  makes  us  so  much  beloved  by  the 
foreigner.  Those  of  us  who  remember  with 
affection  and  gratitude  the  old  "  vetturino " 
^  A.  H.,  iu  "Labour  Co-pavtnersliip,"  July  1900. 


30  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

days  will  understand  what  is  meant  by  saying 
that  modern  travel  fails  to  give  the  old  educa- 
tion :  in  a  bad  sense,  we  are  too  much 
Americanised  for  that.  One  sees  in  all  his 
work  what  fine  breadths  of  intelligence  entered 
into  Ruskin's  soul  from  his  travels. 

Lastly,  his  steady  ways  of  life,  his  regular 
chapel,  his  attention  to  lectures,  his  affection  and 
honour  for  his  teachers,  enabled  him  to  grasp, 
as  few  lads  ever  do  grasp,  the  larger  character 
of  classical  and  mathematical  knowledge.  He 
is  a  wonderful  example  of  the  ennoblement  of 
Pass  work  by  a  strong  and  ready  intelligence. 
In  my  time  I  have  known  three  men  of 
whom  this  is  true  ;  men  on  whom  the  old  Pass 
education  really  had  excellent  effects ;  these 
were :  Lord  Salisbury,  Lord  DufFerin  and  Ava, 
and  Ruskin.  They  all  brought  to  it  a  generosity 
of  mind  and  breadth  of  experience  which  raised 
them  above  the  work  they  had  to  do ;  they 
had  the  power  of  getting  good  out  of  the  dry 
bones  of  the  Pass  system. 

Ruskin  at  the  end  showed  so  much  work 
and   brilliancy   in  his   final   Examination,  that  he 


HIS  DOUBLE  HONORARY  FOURTH   31 

won  a  rare  distinction  (now  altogether  done 
away  with)  of  being  placed  in  the  Class  List 
on  his  Pass  work ;  his  name  appears  in  the  List 
of  1841  as  a  Double  Fourth  Class-man,  that  is, 
an  Honorary  Class-man  in  both  Classics  and 
Mathematics.  It  was  a  very  rare  distinction, 
of  which  many  a  man  would  have  been  as 
proud  as  if  he  had  won  a  Scholarship.  After 
this  he  took  his  B.A.  Degree,  and  this  first 
period  of  his  Oxford  life  ended. 

II. RUSKIN    AS    PROFESSOR    OF    ART    AT    OXFORD. 

A  gi-eat  contrast  can  be  drawn  between  the 
Oxford  of  INIr  Ruskin's  undergraduate  days, 
and  the  University  in  the  time  of  his  pro- 
fessoriate. It  was  but  a  few  years,  in  which 
Oxford  had  changed  even  more  than  he :  and 
he  was  a  very  different  man.  She  had  passed 
from  the  old  world  to  the  new ;  he  had  de- 
veloped from  youth  into  manhood,  from  ^Vrt 
for  its  own  sake  to  Art  as  an  ornament  and  a 
handmaid  to  morality.  His  undergraduate  days 
were    long   before    University    Commissions    and 


32  JOHN    RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

Reports,  and  before  the  subsequent  legislation, 
which  aimed  at  enlarging  the  sphere  of  the  Uni- 
versity's influence,  and  at  bringing  her  education 
into  closer  relations  with  modern  requirements. 

In  those  older  days  there  was  more  elbow- 
room  ;  independent  reading  was  as  yet  not 
dead ;  we  loved  and  valued  the  old  English 
masterpieces — we  now  pull  them  in  pieces,  and 
examine  them  in  detail,  and  destroy  their  life, 
by  a  sort  of  vivisection  of  mind.  In  those  days 
the  better  brains  had  the  better  chance.  The 
average  may  be  raised  now ;  study  is  parcelled 
out  into  lines  ;  a  narrowness  follows  specialisation  ; 
courses  of  study  are  minutely  marked  out,  and 
the  opportunities  of  choice  and  personal  liking  are 
greatly  restricted.  The  older  Universities  are  still 
largely  the  servants  of  the  older  Public  Schools. 

In  "  the  forties  "  there  were  very  few  clubs : 
the  "Exquisite"  still  "did  the  High,"  and 
showed  off  his  fashion ;  the  "  Grand  Com- 
pounder," hallowed  by  wealth,  still  swept  up 
to  Convocation  House  with  his  whole  College 
in  attendance  in  full  robes  for  his  Degree ;  the 
nobleman  was  let  off  with   shortened   residence ; 


THE   OLD   OXFORD  33 

education  was  genteel,  if  not  very  deep-searching. 
A  distinct  literary  feeling  pervaded  the  abler 
circles ;  there  was  a  "  romantic  school,"  born  of 
the  Lake  Poets,  with  which  Ruskin's  tempera- 
ment and  his  poetic  passion  allied  him. 

The  world  was  not  as  yet  altogether  ruled  by 
"  Boards,"  those  sure  signs  of  old  age  in  institu- 
tions ;  we  knew  nothing  of  "  Faculties,"  we   tried 
to  think   widely  on   Hfe   and   learning;    indepen- 
dence  was   curbed  by  the  Thirty-Nine    Articles ; 
it  ranged  all  the   more  freely  elsewhere.      Since 
the   Commissions   there    is   more   red   tape ;    you 
cannot    have    an    interest    in    anything,   without 
having  an   examination  paper  thrust  under  your 
nose.       Learn,     not     to     know,    but     to     pass. 
The    courses   of  study   are   small   canals   through 
a     level    land :     the    old     dear     straying    is    im- 
possible ;    we   used   to    splash   through   bogs,   and 
put  up   strange  birds,  and   see  wonderful   effects, 
and  live  in  a  new  world  of  hill  and  tumbled  rock. 
INI  en  have  more  to  do ;  there  is  perhaps  less  idle- 
ness ;  the  stages  of  learning  are  marked  by  mile- 
stones— or    tombstones — of    examination    papers  ; 
a   thing    once   learned    is   forgotten    as    soon     as 


34  JOHN   RUSKIN   AT  OXFORD 

possible.  An  old  friend  of  mine,  a  distinguished 
Cambridge  Professor,  told  me  that  he  had  a 
pupil  who  showed  singular  aptitude  in  Sanskrit. 
He  urged  him  to  carry  on  his  linguistic  work, 
as  he  had  such  gifts ;  but  the  immediate  reply 
was :  "  Oh,  thank  you,  sir,  but  I  don't  mean 
to  attend  your  lectures  any  longer ;  they  tell 
me  that  I  know  quite  enough  to  get  through." 

So  knowledge  and  capacity  were  nought ; 
the  door  was  narrow ;  if  a  man  had  too  much  in 
his  intellectual  pockets  he  might  stick  in  the  door 
and  not  get  through.  In  truth,  what  we  proudly 
call  "  speciahsation "  is  really  only  snippets, 
out  of  which  no  coat  can  be  made,  nor  warmth 
to  reach  the  heart. 

We  now  read  newspapers,  and  live  among 
lies ;  or  we  sprawl  over  magazines,  and  take 
a  sort  of  interest  in  second-rate  stories ;  there 
is  no  consecutive  work.  AVith  all  this  goes  the 
tendency  towards  Clubs ;  there  are  now  a  hundred 
Clubs  for  one.  I  heard  the  other  day  of  a  College 
in  which  fifty  men  had  more  than  fifty  Clubs  to 
belong  to ;  more  than  a  Club  a  man.  And  Clubs 
are  just   like   magazines :    the    human    soul    idles 


AS   SLADE   PROFESSOR  35 

through  them.  I  am  told  that  now  there  are 
no  Old  Fogies — what  a  misfortune !  But  still 
the  Colleges  are  better  ventilated  and  sewered, 
and  the  fees  are  probably  double.  The  dominance 
of  the  public  school  spirit  yet  prevails,  for  good 
or  for  evil ; — and  it  is  still  the  dearest  old  place 
in  the  world. 

Pardon  this  digression,  only  excusable  as  show- 
ing into  how  changed  a  world  ISlr  Ruskin  returned, 
as  the  first  holder  of  the  Slade  Professorship 
of  Art  in  1869.  He  too  was  greatly  changed : 
in  his  younger  days  his  noblest  energies  were 
given  to  Art ;  now,  since  his  four  Lectures  in 
the  Cornhill  Magazine  in  1860,  which  have  since 
been  frequently  reprinted  as  "  Unto  this  Last," 
his  aims,  style  of  writing,  circle  of  adherents  and 
admirers,  were  all  changed.  " '  Unto  this  Last 
(Frederick  Harrison  says  in  his  volume  of  Essays) 
"  was  the  central  book  of  liis  life,  as  it  is  the 
turning  -  point  of  his  career."  Before,  he  liad 
preached  morality,  honesty,  truthfuhiess,  as  the 
soul  of  Art,  for  Art's  sake ;  thenceforward  he 
taught  morality  as  the  basis  of  men's  lives.  iVt 
first  he  appealed  to  the  "  cultivated  classes,"  to  the 


36  JOHN   RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

University  men,  to  Society : — after  1860  he  ad- 
dressed himself  to  the  working  world,  and  became 
at  once  the  unpopular  prophet  and  preacher  of  a 
world  of  hope,  simplicity,  fiiir  dealing,  and  noble- 
ness of  aim  in  common  things.  If  the  "  Modern 
Painters "  were  by  "an  Oxford  Graduate,"  and 
addressed  to  the  polite  world,  "  Unto  this  Last " 
was  by  a  workman  to  workmen,  on  the  true 
principles  of  social  life,  based  on  the  Gospel. 
These  four  papers  in  the  Comhill  Magazine  raised 
such  a  storm,  that  Thackeray,  the  Editor,  was 
frightened  into  closing  his  pages  against  such 
subversive  Christianity  :  he  had  to  obey  the  well- 
known  rule  of  Christian  Communities,  which  are 
always  shocked  when  any  one  tells  them  what  is 
the  true  following  of  Christ.  Happily,  "  Unto 
this  Last"  has  had  a  far  wider  sale  than  any 
other  of  IMr  Ruskin's  books ;  happily,  too,  it  is 
the  vestibule  of  his  later  life,  in  which  he  steadily 
grew  in  power  in  the  new  world  of  social  effort, 
and  became  the  champion  of  the  workers.  He 
was  the  Peter  Hermit  of  tlie  new  crusade  against 
money  and  selfishness ;  the  leader  of  the  revolt 
against  the  monetary  Economists  of  the  first  half 


HIS   AIMS   IN   TEACHING  37 

of  the  century ;  not  a  Socialist,  not  in  the  least 
a  Radical,  no  party  man  of  any  kind.  He 
preached  the  newer  relation  of  Englishmen  to 
their  State,  a  nobler  patriotism ;  and  sowed  seeds 
for  a  new  view  of  party  government,  in  which 
hereafter  a  love  of  social  service  shall  replace  the 
old  discredited  and  selfish  groupings  of  worn-out 
systems.  He  believed — for  his  system  was  hopeful 
— that  the  new  group,  made  up  of  all  those  who 
were  content  to  work  honestly  and  to  be  the 
simple  wealth  of  England,  would  one  day  defeat 
all  partisan  and  selfish  aims.  The  forces  of  moral 
life  should  revive  Christianity ;  justice  between 
man  and  man  should  be  keen-eyed,  not  blinded ; 
w^ork  would  fall  more  and  more  into  co-operative 
forms ;  the  community  would  resist  the  drink- 
domination  by  cleansing  the  lives  and  the  homes 
of  the  people.  His  utterances  were  often  what 
is  called  extreme,  extravagant ;  still,  they  were 
always  on  the  right  side.  One  cannot  make  a 
party  out  of  them,  but  something  better,  for  they 
are  "  the  little  leaven  which  leaveneth  the  whole 
lump." 

Hoping  to  enlist  Oxford  in  this  crusade,  Ruskin 


38  JOHN   RUSKIN  AT   OXFORD 

accepted  the  Slade  Professorship  of  Fine  Art. 
You  may  see  in  "Fors"  (iv.  pp.  361,  362)  what 
he  says.  In  that  striking  appeal  to  the  EngHsh 
artisan,  we  discern  his  high  thoughts  as  to  his 
new  duties : 

"  Now,"  he  says,  "  my  own  special  pleasure 
has  lately  been  connected  with  a  given  duty. 
I  have  been  ordered  to  endeavour  to  make 
our  English  youth  care  somewhat  for  the  Arts, 
and  must  put  my  bettermost  strength  into  that 
business." 

He  appeals  to  young  Oxford,  as  we  all, 
some  time  or  other  in  life,  have  dreamed  of 
appealing. 

And  then  we  find  he  hoped — not  only  by 
Lectures,  but  by  devoting  £5000  to  the  founding 
of  an  Art  Mastership — to  teach  young  men  good 
drawing,  and  so  to  countervail  something  of  the 
mischief  that  he  thought  South  Kensington  was 
daily  doing. 

Lastly,  he  clearly  thought  that  here  was  his 
ordained  pulpit :  to  kindle  in  young  hearts  a  love 
of  noble  and  beautiful  things.  "For,"  says  he, 
"no  great  Arts  were  practicable  by  any  people, 
unless   they  were  living   contented  lives,  in   pure 


HIS   LECTURES  39 

air,  out  of  the  way  of  unsightly  objects,  and 
emancipated  from  unnecessary  mechanical  occupa- 
tions," 1  and  he  adds,  simply  and  rightly,  "  That 
the  conditions  necessary  for  the  Arts  of  men  are 

the  best  for  their  souls  and  bodies." 

In  all  this  Ruskin  preached  the  Greek  ideal 
of  moral  life,  ruling  Art  and  Economics  ;  he  tried, 
like  eccentric  William  Sewell  before  him,  to  lift 
hfe  up  to  that  nobler  level  on  which  Plato  de- 
scribed it  in  the  heyday  of  Greek  Art  and  Letters. 

He  took  very  great  pains  with  his  Lectures ; 
giving  of  his  best.  Mr  Collingwood  tells  me  "  that 
he  cut  up  several  books  of  Missals," — intending 
to  use  exquisite  illuminations,  the  miniature 
drawing  of  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries,  as 
illustrations  for  his  points.  Some  of  these  in- 
valuable MSS.  have  suffered  hopelessly;  especially 
the  famous  so-called  St  Louis  Missal,  many  leaves 
of  which  have  been  dispersed,  it  may  be  beyond 
hope  of  restoration.  Too  much  reverence  for  Art 
may  sometimes  be  as  destructive  as  too  little." 

1  F.C.I.  177. 

2  One  day  at  Brantwood  I  was  looking  tlu'ough  these  lovely 
specimens  of  monastic  skill,  and  finding  the  St  Louis  Missal 
in  complete  disorder,  I  turned  to  Mr  Ruskin,  who  was  sitting 


40  JOHN   RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

With  these  thoughts  ruHng  him,  he  set 
himself  to  teach  and  influence  the  lads.  At 
the  close  of  "Modern  Painters"  he  had  written 
that  "  Competition  and  Anarchy  are  laws  of 
Death;  government  and  co-operation  laws  of 
life " ;  and  this  was  his  text  throughout. 

His  Lectures  testify  to  the  brightness  and 
originahty  of  his  mind  in  this  later  time.  No 
one  can  appreciate  their  effect,  unless  he  was 
so  fortunate  as  to  hear  them.  One  saw  the 
strange  afflatus  coming  and  going  in  his  eye, 
his  gestures,  his  voice.  The  lectures  were  care- 
fully prepared;  but  from  time  to  time  some 
key  was  struck  which  took  his  attention  from 
the  page,  and  then  came  an  outburst.  In  the 
decorous  atmosphere  of  a  University  lecture-room 
the  strangest  things  befell:  and,  for  example,  in 
a     splendid    passage    on    the    Psalms    of   David 

in  his  wonted  chair  in  his  library,  and  said:  "This  MSS.  is 
in  an  awful  state  :  could  you  not  do  something  to  get  the 
pages  right  again?"  and  he  replied  with  a  sad  smile,  "Oh 
yes ;  these  old  Books  have  in  them  an  evil  spirit,  which  is 
always  throwing  them  into  disorder"— as  if  it  were  through 
envy  against  anything  so  beautiful ;  the  fact  was  that  he  had 
played  the  "evil  spirit"  with  them  himself. 


HIS   LECTURES  41 

(in  a  lecture  on  Birds)  he  was  reminded  of  an 
Anthem  by  JNIendelssohn,  lately  rendered  in  one  of 
the  College  chapels,  in  which  the  solemn  dignity 
of  the  Psalms  was  lowered  by  the  frivolous 
prettiness  of  the  music.  It  was,  "  Oh !  for  the 
wings,"  etc.,  that  he  had  heard  with  disgust,  and 
he  suddenly  began  to  dance  and  recite,  with 
the  strangest  flappings  of  his  JNI.A.  gown,  and 
the  oddest  look  on  his  excited  face.  The  Oxford 
musicians  were  furious ;  though  indeed  his 
criticism  was  just  enough.  The  Psalm  deserved 
a  more  dignified  treatment  than  Mendelssohn's 
drawing-room  music  could  provide.  On  another 
occasion  I  was  present  at  one  of  his  strangest 
utterances.  It  was  at  the  Taylor  Institution ; 
a  lecture  on  I  forget  what  subject.  Something 
brought  up  Evolution.  Now,  if  there  was  one 
thing  abo\'e  another  that  roused  his  anger,  it 
was  Evolution ;  and  so  he  abandoned  his  subject, 
notes,  professorial  style;  a  new  light  of  scorn 
and  wrath  gleamed,  and  he  went  like  a  terrier 
at  the  obnoxious  theory.  Amusement  filled 
those  who  knew  his  ways ;  amazement  those 
who  did  not.     It  was  such   a   marvellous  theory, 


42  JOHN   RUSKIN  AT  OXFORD 

he  said,  it  could  only  be  understood  by  an 
example.  Far  off  in  the  geons  (I  quote  from 
ancient  recollection)  there  was  a  hairbrush :  as 
the  world  spun,  the  hairbrush  somehow  joined 
in  the  rotation,  whirling  round  for  ages.  First 
she  found  her  easiest  axis  along  the  greater 
length,  and  spun  round  incessant.  By  degrees 
that  motion  rounded  the  neck  or  handle  of  the 
brush,  and  the  knob  at  the  end  of  it  elongated 
itself  and,  as  the  whole  thing  tended  to  become 
round,  took  shape  of  a  head  and  a  beak.  At 
the  same  time,  the  bristles  of  the  brush  were 
all  driven  back  by  the  air  of  the  rotation,  and 
grew  soft  and  smooth ;  out  of  them  came 
slowly  the  rudiments  of  feathers,  and  after  a 
time  the  rudiments  of  wings,  and  the  bristles 
were  stretched  out,  till  they  grew  to  be  tail- 
feathers  ;  and  the  whole  was  so  fined  down  by 
rotation,  that  in  course  of  ages  the  hairbrush 
became  a  swallow  and  launched  itself  free  in 
flight.  You  may  ask  how  came  the  breath  and 
life  into  it  ?  Here  the  evolutionist  is  silent : 
he  has  explained  the  material  phenomena ;  and 
the  wind  or  the  warmth  of  motion,  or  something 


HIS  LECTURES  43 

else,  may  have  added  the  immaterial  part :  to 
the  philosopher  this  seemed  but  a  trifle ;  life  is 
but  a  material  function  after  all.  One  need 
hardly  say  that  this  grotesque  explosion  filled 
all  our  memories,  while  the  brilliant  lecture 
was  forgotten.  No  wonder  that  critical  Oxford 
came  to  laugh  at  what  they  called  his  "inspired 
nonsense." 

We  may  perhaps  be  right  in  saying  that  Mr 
Ruskin's  personal  influence  over  the  grown-up 
University  was  not  great ;  a  few  understood, 
many  admired ;  some  sneered,  many  laughed ; 
the  graver  world  was  often  angry.  He  tried 
strange  things.  I  remember  that  he  tried  to 
make  University  society  pause  in  its  race  for 
show  and  display  of  luxury ;  he  bade  us  cease 
from  competing  dinner-parties,  and  to  take 
to  simple  symposia.  A  few  tried  it,  but  their 
mouton  aux  navets  did  not  attract  the  Oxford 
Don  more  than  once ;  it  might  begin  with 
simple  eating  and  good  talk :  champagne  and 
truffles  were  always  lurking  behind  the  door 
ready  to  rush  in  on  a  hint.  AA^ordsworth's 
"Plain  Living   and   High   Thinking"   was  never 


44  JOHN   RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

very  popular  even  in  Balliol ;  and  Ruskin's  dinner 
of  herbs  with  love  had  no  greater  success. 

On  the  undergraduate  he  had  more  influence, 
sometimes  exerted  in  curious  ways.  The  chief 
result  of  it  has  been  a  better  aim  in  taste  and 
reading,  and  in  the  creation  of  a  modern  school 
of  thought,  social  and  anti- monetary.  Perhaps  the 
oddest  thing  of  all  was  his  new  Botley  Road. 
He  used  to  lament  to  his  friends  among  the 
young  men  the  misfortune  of  the  waste  of 
power  in  their  games  and  amusements ;  he  held 
that  all  energy  should  have  fruitful  results ;  that 
they  should  find  interest  in  some  work  which 
would  unbend  their  minds  and  exercise  their 
sinews.  "  Take  pleasure  in  constructive  work," 
he  would  say ;  "  you  will  soon  discover  the 
delight  of  feeling  that  your  efforts  are  productive ; 
this  is  far  better  than  the  mere  physical  exercise 
of  kicking  a  ball  on  a  muddy  field ;  let  your 
play  be  fruitful  of  good  in  some  way."  The 
practical  outcome  of  this  preaching  was  curious. 
On  the  "  Seven  Bridge  Road "  out  of  Oxford, 
a  road  made  last  century  to  secure  a  better 
approach   to   Cumnor    and    Abingdon,   after    the 


WORK    VERSUS  PLAY  45 

last  of  the  seven  bridges  is  crossed,  a  lane  runs 
off  to  the  left,  and  passing  some  picturesque 
stone-built  cottages  of  a  good  age,  with  gardens 
well  cared  for,  drops  into  a  track,  through  damp 
fields,  along  which  a  footpath  runs  to  Ferry 
Hinksey,  a  favourite  summer  walk. 

Here  Ruskin  got  leave  to  make  a  new  road 
across  the  le\'el  fields  ;  thither  a  gang  of  under- 
graduates in  flannels,  with  spades,  picks,  and 
barrows,  went  day  by  day,  while  the  Professor 
came  forth  sometimes,  and  applauded  them  at 
their  task.  I  do  not  think  he  ever  handled  a 
spade ;  the  lads  worked  with  a  will,  but  with 
small  knowledge ;  a  mile  or  so  of  road  was  laid 
out ;  it  led  to  nowhere  in  particular,  unless  it 
had  been  intended  to  lead  to  a  comely  farm  on 
the  hillside ;  and  even  that  it  did  not  reach. 
When  I  saw  the  road,  about  a  year  or  so  after, 
it  showed  obvious  signs  of  decay.  No  prudent 
farmer  would  have  brought  his  carts  over  it ; 
he  would  have  stuck  to  the  turf  of  the  open 
meadow.  The  world  naturally  laughed  at  such 
undirected  enthusiasm ;  still  it  did  good  to  the 
better   men ;    it   was   also    invented    in    order    to 


46  JOHN   RUSKIN   AT  OXFORD 

weed  out  those  feeble  folk — the  Postlethwaites 
and  Handles — who  caricature  the  artistic  man 
of  genius,  and  try  to  make  repartees,  and  are 
a  compound  of  conceit  and  weakness.  These 
men  helped  largely  to  convince  Mr  Ruskin 
that  he  must  abandon  his  Oxford  preachino-, 
and  turn  towards  the  working  world,  in  wl...  • 
the  stubbornness  of  life  begets  a  more  serious 
type.  Still  it  did  the  lads  good.  The  road 
also  expressed  a  valuable  principle.  It  was 
an  impractical  protest  against  the  tyranny  of 
games. 

1  cannot  end  without  some  reference  to  Mr 
Ruskin's  singular  liberality  in  those  days.  It  was 
but  the  carrying  out  of  his  theory  ;  still,  how  rare 
it  is  to  find  a  man  having  a  theory  about  riches, 
and  also  acting  on  it.  He  set  aside  a  tithe  of  his 
property,  amounting  at  that  time  to  about  £7000, 
for  the  purchase  of  houses  and  fields  for  his  Guild 
of  St  George ;  it  was  to  be  the  nucleus  of  a  fund 
to  save  the  unspoilt  country  for  the  country  folk. 
He  gave  valuable  treasures  of  Art  to  Sheffield  and 
other  places ;  he  endowed  the  Art  School  of 
Oxford  with  £5000  for  a  Teacher  of  Drawing,  and 


HIS   MUNIFICENCE  47 

also  deposited  in  it  his  priceless  Turner  drawings, 
and  some  of  his  own  beautiful  work.  He  was  at 
the  same  time  giving  stipends  to  secretaries  in 
different  parts  of  England,  who  were  to  work  at 
Art,  and  send  him  letters  on  the  advance  of  true 
artistic  feeling  in  their  districts.  There  is  one 
touching  story  of  this  great  liberality ;  it  will 
give  you  a  notion  of  the  way  in  which  he  got 
rid  of  his  capital,  while  at  the  same  time  it 
was  a  thanksgiving  for  his  recovery  from  a  serious 
illness. 

One  day,  walking  near  Radley,  his  attention 
was  caught  by  a  group  of  little  girls  playing  in  the 
road,  and  he  went  and  talked  to  them.  One  of 
them  attracted  his  special  attention.  He  asked  her 
why  she  was  playing  in  the  dust?  Had  she  no 
garden  at  home  ?  Did  she  love  flowers  ?  AMiat 
her  name  was  ?  And  she  replied  modestly,  with 
wonder  in  her  eyes.  On  reaching  home,  he  gave 
orders  to  his  solicitor  to  look  out  for,  and  buy  a 
cottage  with  a  garden  in  lladley,  and  have  a  deed 
of  gift  of  it  made  out  in  the  little  girl's  name, 
which  was  done  accordingly ;  and  she,  full  of 
wonder,  with   her  astonished    parents,  entered   at 


48  JOHN   RUSKIN  AT  OXFORD 

once  into  possession  of  it.  I  hope  the  cottage  was 
well  tied  up,  and  that  it  has  not  already  been 
turned  into  beer. 

During  these  years  he  was  always  yearning  for 
signs  of  some  response  from  the  nobler  minds  of 
Oxford.  Now,  Oxford  abhors  all  expression  of 
affection  or  admiration.  We  are  too  philosophic 
to  love ;  too  wise  to  admire.  He  thought  there 
was  no  response ;  he  did  not  know  that  many  of 
the  highest  characters  among  the  young  men  were 
already  full  of  devotion  for  him ;  he  did  not  know 
that  his  words  were  already  working  their  way  in 
the  outside  world.  "  One  sows  and  another  reaps." 
He  had  little  of  this  dull  pastoral  patience  which 
sows  and  waits  and  wants. 

"  During  seven  years,"  he  says,^  '*  I  went  on 
appealing  to  my  fellow-scholars,  in  words  clear 
enough  to  them,  though  not  to  you  (the  working- 
men),  had  they  chosen  to  hear ;  but  no  one  cared 
nor  listened,  till  that  sign  sternly  given  to  me  that 
my  message  to  the  learned  and  rich  was  given  and 
ended." 

And  that  sign  coming  on  grievous  dejection, 
discouragement,    and    enfeebled    health,   was    the 

1  "  Fors,"  c.  iv.  p.  362. 


WHY   HE   RESIGNED  49 

conquest  of  Oxford,  as  he  thought,  by  the 
mahgn  powers  oi  Materiahsm,  which  took  a  form 
most  intensely  repugnant  to  him,  in  the  election  of 
a  vivisectionist  Professor  of  Anatomy.  This  was, 
he  thought,  the  defeat  of  all  he  had  been  fighting 
for ;  the  denial  of  all  he  had  ever  preached.  The 
Vote  of  Convocation  was  aimed,  he  thought, 
straight  at  him — that  as  for  "  the  things  true, 
honest,  and  whatsoever  things  are  pure,  whatsoever 
things  are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good 
report,  if  there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any 
praise,"  instead  of  thinking  of  these  things,  Oxford 
scorned  them  all.  To  his  mind  the  distinctions 
between  God's  creatures  were  but  slight ;  no 
creature  could  arrogate  such  dominion  as  to  torture 
and  sacrifice  the  meanest  of  them  for  curiosity  or 
for  some  supposed  scientific  gain,  or  even  to  compel 
the  weaker  creature  to  minister  to  the  life  of  the 
stronger.  He  hated  a  materialised  life,  a  gross 
religion  of  the  body ;  his  love  for  Art  made  him 
exceeding  jealous,  lest  the  love  of  beauty  should 
become  the  mother  of  sensuality.  And  so,  as  he 
thought  that  Oxford  had  turned  her  face  away 
from  him,  and  listened  to  him  no  more,  in  1879  he 

D 


50  JOHN   RUSKIN   AT  OXFORD 

sent  in  his  resignation  of  the  Slade  Professorship, 
and  withdrew.^ 

Yet  Oxford  was  not  really  ungrateful,  though 
she  would  not  understand  or  bear  with  his  uncon- 
trolled vehemence,  or  endure  a  Toryism  of  spirit 
so  opposite  to  that  via  media  spirit  which 
Oxford  affects.  He  was  honoured  specially  in  two 
of  her  Colleges.  They  made  him  an  Honorary 
Fellow  of  Corpus  Christi  College ;  and  he  took  up 
his  residence  in  College  rooms  within  the  walls  of 
Bishop  Fox's  noble  foundation ;  (he  gives  one  a 
lovely  touch  of  his  recollections  of  this  time  in  his 
"  Fors,"  vol.  ii.  p.  25),  and  his  own  College,  Christ 
Church,  elected  him  (in  1858)  to  the  rare  honour  of 
a  Honorary  Studentship  :  a  new  distinction,  seldom 
conferred,  given  to  those  who  have  done  good 
work  for  their  College  by  doing  good  work, 
in  scholarship  or  research,  or  pohtical  greatness. 
Into  this  small  body  Mr  Ruskin  was  introduced, 
at  the  beginning  of  this  new  order,  together  with 

1  On  his  resignation  (in  1879)  the  University  voted  him  the 
D.C.L.  Degree ;  this,  however,  he  was  unable  or  unwilling  to 
accept  at  the  time,  and  it  was  for  the  time  withdrawn  on  the 
score  of  his  ill-health.  It  was  finally  conferred  on  him  as  late  as 
1893. 


A   HONORARY   STUDENT  51 

]\Ir  Gladstone,  Sir  George  Cornwall  Lewis,  Sir 
F.  A.  G.  Ouseley,  and  Sir  Henry  Aeland.  A 
few  days  later  were  added  Henry  Hallam,  Lord 
Stanhope,  I^ord  Elgin,  the  INIarquis  of  Dalhousie, 
and  Lord  Canning. 

Though  Mr  Euskin's  health  was  still  sorely 
shaken,  yet  on  Mr  Richmond's  withdrawal  from 
the  Slade  Professorship,  which  he  had  accepted  on 
his  predecessor's  resignation  in  1871,  INIr  Ruskin 
reluctantly  consented  to  attempt  the  work  again,  in 
1883,  as  an  experiment.  He  was  very  doubtful  as 
to  his  health,  and  still  more  doubtful  as  to  his 
audiences.  He  gave  a  few,  often  interrupted, 
lectures.  In  truth,  he  felt  that  his  Oxford  days 
were  over,  and  ere  long  he  finally  resigned  office 
and  withdrew  to  Brantwood.  He  marked  his  sense 
of  the  uncongenial  quality  of  Oxford  by  with- 
drawing from  the  School  of  Art  there  the  valuable 
drawings  which  he  had  lent  to  it. 

His  pride  in  the  old  University,  and  a  pretty 
childish  vanity  going  with  it,  peeps  out  in  a  letter 
at  the  end  of  1887:' 

"  Yesterday  I  had  two  lovely  services  in  my 

1  Quoted  from  "  Collingwood,"  p.  33. 


52  JOHN   RUSKIN  AT  OXFORD 

own  Cathedral.  You  know  the  Cathedral  of 
Oxford  is  the  Chapel  of  Christ  Church,  and  I 
have  my  high  seat  in  the  chancel,  as  an  Honorory 
Student,  besides  being  bred  there,  and  so  one  is 
ever  so  proud  and  ever  so  pious  all  at  once,  which 
is  ever  so  nice,  you  know ;  and  my  own  Dean, 
that's  the  Dean  of  Christ  Church,  who  is  as  big  as 
any  Bishop,  read  the  services,  and  the  Psalms  and 
Anthems  were  lovely." 

So  ends,  with  a  characteristic  protest  against 
the  Oxford  spirit  of  the  time,  John  Ruskin's 
connection  with  the  University ;  and  it  is  time 
we  too  should  bid  him  farewell.  The  last  of  the 
great  writers  of  the  nineteenth  century,  in  a  noble 
company  one  of  the  noblest;  there  are  gleams 
of  Carlyle  in  him,  without  Carlyle's  fierce  bitter- 
ness. He  is  not  so  gorgeous  as  De  Quincey, 
though  quite  as  graphic  and  more  varied.  In 
his  earlier  writings  he  is  splendid,  with  English 
of  an  exquisite  rhythm  and  sweet  melody;  here 
and  there  we  come  on  gigantic  organ  passages, 
in  which  the  splendour  spreads  and  expands  over 
all  the  page,  long-sustained,  infinite  in  variety, 
with  illustrations  hinted  at  rather  than  worked 
out ;  enlivened  with  touches  of  true  humour,  and 


HIS  STYLE  53 

sometimes  with  angry  sarcasm,  and  scorn,  for  he 
beheld  meanness  and  dirt,  where  all  should  have 
been  lovely  as  God  gave  it.     He  is  gone  from  us 
now;  but  the  immortal  gift   in   him  still  prevails 
to  resist  the  tyranny  of  the  monetary  measure  of 
things.     In  all  his  life  he  testified  that  the  Apostle 
is  right  in  telling  us  that  money  is  the  root  of 
all  evil.     The  world,  amazed  at  first,  and  abusive 
towards  him,  swings  round,  as  the  world  always 
does.     To  the  world,  Cassandra  is  but  a  mad  fool ; 
her  prophecies  of  evil  are  laughed  at,  but  never 
laughed  down :  a  later  time  knows.     And  so  too 
of  Ruskin ;  his  writing,  built  on  the  old  Bible,  and 
on  a  reverent  love  and  knowledge  of  it,  are  not 
merely    gloomy ;    they    are    always    hopeful ;    he 
leaves  us  a  splendid  heritage  of  hope.     "  His  belief 
in  God,"  says  one,  "  led  him  to  attack  the  luxury, 
the  sin,  and  the  waste,  which  rule  in  modern  life ; 
— a  system  born  of  the  Devil,  which  has  led  to  a 
few  rich,  and  herds  of  poor  " ;  which  has  created  a 
select  society  of  consumers  who  provide  nothing, 
and   a   nation   of   providers   who   often    have   not 
enough  to  eat;   an  aristocracy  of  the  few,  and  a 
democracy  of  neglected  millions.     The  keen  notes 


54  JOHN   RUSKIN   AT   OXFORD 

of  his  voice  still  echo :  the  family,  he  says,  "  does 
not  live  by  competition  but  by  harmony " ;  the 
economy  of  the  state  should  therefore  be  really 
domestic,  based  not  on  conflict  but  on  mutual  help. 
Oxford,  let  us  hope,  will  always  feel  the  influ- 
ence of  this  singularly  characteristic  nature :  let  us 
hope  that  the  College  framed  on  his  principles,  and 
called  by  his  name,  Ruskin  Hall,  may  grow  into 
a  great  power  for  good,  because  it  aims  specially  at 
bringing  the  working  world  into  closer  relations 
with  the  ancient  Oxford ;  and  by  so  doing  will 
enshrine,  in  faithful  hearts,  the  name  and  principles 
of  our  honoured  friend,  in  an  institution  worthy  of 
him  in  every  sense.  If  his  noble  nature  and  high 
principles  can  prevail  in  the  hoary  city  which  is 
indeed  "  the  home  of  lost  causes,"  we  may  know 
that  a  new  day  has  dawned,  and  that  our  children 
will  ever  claim  John  Ruskin  as  one  of  their  noblest 
teachers  and  friends  in  a  true  merry  England. 


II 

THE   STATESMEN   OF   WEST 
CUMBERLAND 

The  author  of  the  "  Annals  of  a  Quiet  Valley " 
is  fully  justified  when  he  says  that  the  States- 
men of  the  Dales  are  "  one  of  the  most  interest- 
ing classes  in  the  North — the  race  of  yeomen  or 
Statesmen,  a  remnant  only  of  which  remains " ; 
nor  is  he  wrong  when  he  adds  that  "the  history 
of  the  Northern  yeoman  has  yet  to  be  Avritten "  ; 
for  it  is  very  difficult  to  gather  much  about  this 
most  characteristic  group  of  independent  farmers. 
They  tilled  their  own  land ;  it  was  freehold,  and, 
if  tradition  speaks  true,  a  customary  freeholder 
has  owned  each  of  these  little  estates  from  time 
immemorial. 

We  often  hear  much  lamentation  over  the  ex- 


55 


56    STATESMEN   OF  WEST   CUMBERLAND 

tinction  of  the  small  farmers,  the  Statesmen ;  we 
miss  their  independence,  their  sturdy  battle  with 
nature,  their  simplicity  and  traditional  loyalty. 
They  have  passed  away  so  rapidly,  that  in  a  few 
generations  it  will  not  be  possible  to  gain  a  clear 
idea  of  their  characteristic  life.  Let  us,  while  we 
can,  try  to  secure  a  view  of  the  position,  customs, 
manner  of  life,  and  set  of  opinions  of  these  ancient 
Freemen  of  Cumberland.  We  are  all  talking  about 
bringing  the  people  back  to  the  land ;  and  yet 
we  see,  unmoved,  the  disappearance  of  this  most 
remarkable  farmer-class  in  the  country;  men  who 
with  Tory  instincts  usually  voted  Whig,  who  were 
sturdy  Democrats  and  natural  Conservatives. 
They  answer  nearly  to  the  free  farmers  of  Switzer- 
land and  Norway;  they  too  keep  alive,  as  the 
Norse  and  Swiss  also  do,  the  love  of  liberty  and 
simple  independence,  bred  in  the  blood  of  men  of 
mountain  regions. 

We  must  begin  by  enquiring,  first,  what 
are  the  geographical  limits  within  which  we 
find  this  body  of  Statesmen?  and  next,  what  is 
the  origin  of  this  special  use  of  the  term  ?  It 
certainly    is    not    understood     in     this     northern 


LIMITS   OF  THE   NAME  57 

usage    away   from   the   little   farms   to    which   it 
specially   belongs.     The  word  can   so   be   apphed 
only  in  the   north-western   counties   of  England. 
It  does  not  cross  over  into  Scotland;  we  do  not 
find    it     in     Northumberland ;     in    the     Durham 
moorland  the  corresponding  class  of  farmers  were 
usually    styled    "Lairds."       The     Statesmen    are 
chiefly  to  be  met  with  in  the  cultivated  lands  of 
west   Cumberland,   their  true   home.       The   land 
between   the   fells   and   the   seas   is   their   ancient 
stronghold :  there  are  still  some  of  them  in  North 
Lancashire,  in  the  Ulpha  Valley,  and  down  the 
coast  towards  Lancaster;  they  remain  still  about 
Pemith,  and  up  the  line  of  the  North  Western 
Railway ;  there  are  still  some  in   Westmoreland ; 
and  the  slopes  of  the  mountains  which  form  the 
north-west  angle   of  West  Riding,  the  valley  of 
Dent    and    other   valleys   similarly    placed,    have 
always  provided  a  goodly  band  of  manful  farmers, 
tilling    their    own    freeholds.       In     the     rest    of 
Yorkshire,    where    the    people    are    stalwart    and 
independent,    one    miglit    have   expected   to   find 
many   of  them    on   the    moors   and  fells :  on   the 
contrary,  they  do  not  appear  to  be  there  at  all  by 


58   STATESMEN   OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

the  name  of  Statesmen :  this  characteristic  name 
seems  unknown. 

These  then  are  the  fairly  marked  geographical 
outlines  of  the  class :  we  must  next  consider  their 
name  of  Statesman.  At  first,  tempted  by  the 
fact  that  this  peculiar  use  of  the  term  was  limited 
to  the  most  Scandinavian  part  of  the  island,  one 
hoped  that  it  might  have  come  from  a  name  akin 
to  the  Icelandic  compound,  Stadr-mann,  which 
Dr  Vigfusson  gives  as  the  name  for  "  a  possessor 
of  a  freehold  church-property  in  Iceland " ;  so 
connecting  it  with  the  Icelandic  stadr,  an  abode, 
a  bit  of  freehold  property.  There  is,  however,  no 
evidence  for  this ;  and  what  we  know  of  the  use 
of  the  word  is  against  such  an  origin.  Through 
the  kindness  of  Dr  Murray,  editor  in  chief  of  the 
magnificent  English  Dictionary,  I  have  seen  the 
slips  containing  this  use  of  the  word  "  Statesman." 
I  learn  from  these  that  the  word  in  this  sense  does 
not  appear  in  literature  before  the  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  century :  before  1800,  it  existed 
only  in  popular  usage,  as  no  doubt  it  did  for  ages 
before  any  one  thought  it  worthy  of  a  place  in 
print.     The  earliest  example  of  it  we  find  in  the 


ORIGIN   OF  THE  TERM  59 

"  Annals  of  Balliston,"  ^  by  INIary  Leadbeater, 
published  in  1813.  She  says  "Thomas  Wilkin- 
son who  is  a  Statesman,  which  means  in 
Cumberland  phrase  one  who  owns  the  fee  simple 
of  his  land,  but  works  on  it  himself " ;  a  clear 
statement  of  the  word  and  a  correct  definition 
of  the  local  usage  of  it.  Good  Bishop  Wilson, 
speaking  of  his  ancestors,  says  :  "  They,  so  far  as  I 
can  trace  them,  have  neither  been  hewers  of 
wood  nor  drawers  of  water,  but  tillers  of  their  own 
ground — in  the  idiom  of  the  country — Statesmen." 
And  Wordsworth  says  in  his  "  Scenery  of  the 
Lakes,"  published  in  1823,  "the  family  of  each 
man,  whether  estatesman  or  farmer,  formerly  had 
a  twofold  support " ;  and  he  adds,  "  the  lands  of 
the  estatesman  being  mortgaged  .  .  .  fell  into 
the  hands  of  wealthy  purchasers " ;  so  that 
the  evil  was  already  working.  De  Quincey^ 
defines  him  thus  :  "  A  'Statesman,  elliptically  for 
an  Estates-man,  a  native  dalesman,  possessing 
and  personally  cultivating  a  patrimonial  landed 
estate."     And  so  great  an  authority  as  Sir  Bernard 

1  "Annals  of  Balliston,"  i.  p.  128. 

2  "Works,"  vol.  ii.  of  "Autobiographic  Sketches,"  p.  188,  n. 


60    STATESMEN   OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

Burke^  writes:  "  The  Statesman — the  peculiar  name 
given  to  those  who  Hve  on  and  cultivate  their  own 
estates,  being  probably  a  corruption  or  abbrevia- 
tion of  the  compound  estates-man."  So  that  we 
may  safely  accept  this  as  the  origin  of  the  term  ;  it 
is  however  not  an  abbreviation  with  an  initial 
"e"  lopped  off.  Though  the  use  of  the  word 
cannot  be  traced  back  beyond  the  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  there  was  an  ancient  legal 
phrase  which  goes  to  show  that  the  technical 
word  used  for  freehold  property  was  not  "  estate  " 
but  "  state."  Down  to  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
century  the  proper  phrase  in  will-making  was  to 
"  make  a  state "  to  a  man  and  his  heirs ;  and  the 
inheritor  of  one  of  these  Cumberland  farms  would 
therefore  naturally  be  styled  a  "  states-man." 

Looking  back  for  centuries  we  find  Fortescue 
in  his  "De  laudibus  Angliae  Legum"  (c.  xxix) 
contrasting  England,  as  he  knew  it,  with  the 
kingdoms  on  the  mainland,  and  pointing  out  that 
this  country  was  in  far  better  case  than  France, 
because  it  was  notable  for  the  large  number  of 
small    landowners.       For     in    this     country,     as 

^  "Views  of  Families,"  Second  Series,  p.  151.    a.d.  1860. 


DEFINITION  OF  THE   STATESMAN        61 

Waterhouse  says,  "the  yeoman  and  country 
Corydon  is  a  great  proprietor  of  land " ;  and  he 
boasts  that  "only  with  us  are  men  of  the 
plough  men  of  estate."  This  is  the  ancient  and 
admirable  condition  from  which  we  have  now 
so  unhappily  fallen.  Before  passing  from  this 
branch  of  the  subject  let  us  record  an  early 
reference  to  this  class  of  freeholders  (though  the 
special  name  is  not  used)  in  a  letter  addressed  by 
Mr   Ritter  to  Lord  Burghley   in    1589. 

"These  people,"  he  says,  "situate  among  wild 
mountains  and  savage  fells,  are  generally  affected 
to  religion,  quiet  and  industrious,  equall  with 
Hallyfax  in  this,  excelling  them  in  civility  and 
temper  of  lyfe,  as  well  as  in  abstaining  from 
drink  as  from  other  excesses." 

And  INIr  Ritter  adds  that  these  farmers  are 
"  customary  tenants,"  holding,  he  says,  direct  from 
the  Crown- 
It  would  be  beyond  me  to  enter  upon  the 
difficult  questions  of  tenure  which  face  any  one 
who  hopes,  without  any  sure  legal  or  literary 
authority,  to  place  our  Statesmen  in  a  class  by 
themselves,     lilackstone's   definition   for  Yeoman, 


62    STATESMEN   OF  WEST   CUMBERLAND 

as  "  he  that  hath  free  land  of  40s.  by  the 
year;  who  was  anciently  thereby  qualified  to 
serve  on  juries,  vote  for  knights  of  the  shire, 
and  do  any  other  act,  where  the  law  requires  one 
that  is  '  probus  et  legalis  homo,' "  ^  answers  exactly 
to  our  Cumberland  Statesmen.  These  inde- 
pendent farmers  with  their  well-marked  qualities 
of  persistence,  industry,  and  suspicion,  due  to  their 
retired  position,  are  worth  careful  study.  They 
represent  a  dying  class,  crushed  out  of  life  by 
the  power  of  wealth,  or  allured  away  into  a 
wider  field  of  life  and  advancement.  We  must 
study  them  now :  ere  long  there  will  be  none 
of  them  left  for  the  student. 

The  tenure  of  these  men  may  be  traced  back 
to  high  antiquity,  though  perhaps,  through  lack 
of  documentary  evidence,  it  would  be  hard  to 
prove  it.  There  are  some  Statesmen  who  claim 
that  their  ancestors  tilled  the  same  land  before 
the  Norman  Conquest;  such  were  the  Fletchers 
of  Wasdale,  who  parted  with  their  ancestral 
home    only    a    very    few   years    ago.     And     the 

^  Blackstone,  "Commentaries,"  i.  407.     (Kerr's  Edition,  p. 
412.) 


THEIR  TENURE   OF  LAND  63 

Oliversons  of  Goosnargh  also  claimed  great 
antiquity  for  their  farm.  This  might  indicate 
the  handing  down  to  our  time  of  some  part  at 
least  of  that  complete  independence  of  tenure 
which  was  enjoyed  by  the  land-holder  in  Anglo- 
Saxon  times ;  or  it  might  only  mean  that  these 
yeomen  with  their  small  holdings  of  toft  and 
croft  had  been  at  some  time  enfranchised  villeins, 
raised  in  this  way  either  for  some  service  per- 
formed, or,  more  usually,  with  a  view  to  securing 
for  the  chief  lord  a  trustworthy  band  of  fighting 
men  in  troubled  days.  This  need  begot  many 
freeholders  or  "  tenants  in  socage,  or  possibly 
tenants  in  large  honours  and  jurisdictions, 
customary  tenants,  that  is,  transmitting  their 
estates  by  copy  of  Court  Roll."  ^ 

Such  a  growth  of  freeholders  would  naturally 
be  most  vigorous  in  the  Marches,  where  the  land 
was  specially  liable  to  attack.  Cumberland,  all 
down  the  Strath  Clyde  side  of  it,  was  just  such 
a  district ;  here  was  a  frontier  difficult  to  protect 

^  From  a  letter  from  Dr  Stubbs,  lately  Bishop  of  Oxfoi'd,  at 
the  end  of  which,  with  commendable  caution,  he  adds,  "  But 
extremely  exact  local  knowledge  is  indispensable,  and  that  I  have 
not  got. " 


64    STATESMEN   OF  WEST  CUMBERLAND 

against  the  Scots,  and  a  long  low  sea  coast,  on 
which  an  enemy  might  land  anywhere.  Thus 
everything  tended  towards  the  growth  of  local 
independence ;  and  favoured  the  multiplication  of 
small  freehold  farms,  each  with  a  stout  man  and 
his  sons  to  defend  it.  In  this  way  there  grew 
up  a  landed  middle  class,  holding  lands  under 
a  kind  of  military  tenure.  When  the  pressure 
of  danger  of  war  died  out,  and  security  followed, 
these  farmers  continued  as  freeholders,  with 
practically  no  service  to  perform,  paying  rent  to 
no  man,  and  enjoying  an  absolutely  independent 
life.  The  Statesmen  were  formerly  very 
numerous  in  Cumberland,  and  clung  together 
very  closely ;  there  was  very  little  difference  in 
position ;  in  many  parishes  the  "  priest "  and  the 
schoolmaster  formed  a  kind  of  upper  class  of 
two ;  though  even  with  them  the  lines  of 
distinction  were  exceedingly  faint.  "  In  one  such 
district,"  says  Mr  Parker,  of  Park  Nook,  who  him- 
self lives  in  an  ancient  Statesman's  house,  "  it 
was  said  that  it  had  had  within  the  memory  of 
man  no  pauper  in  the  parish,  and  no  gentleman 
except  the  clergyman  and  the  schoolmaster ;  there 


THEIR   NUMBERS  65 

the  richest  was  poor  and  poorest  had  abundance." 
A  testimony  which  unfortunately  cannot  now  be 
borne  of  any  part  of  England. 

We  are  told  that  at  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century  there  were  about  seven 
thousand  Statesmen  in  Cumberland  alone ;  ^  their 
vote  was  therefore  decisive.  It  is  pleasant  to 
think  that  it  was  often  cast  in  favour  of  wholesome 
measures,  as  that  for  the  abolition  of  slavery. 

In  former  days  there  were  many  "  sma'  men  " 
reckoned  among  the  Statesmen,  men  who  tilled 
less  than  twenty  acres ;  Parson  and  AMiite  in 
their  introduction  say  that 

"  The  yeomanry,  who  are  here  called  States- 
men, are  very  numerous,  and  most  of  them  occupy 
small  estates  of  their  own,  worth  from  ten  to  fifty 
pounds  a  year,  being  either  freehold,  or  held  of 
the  lord  of  the  manor,  by  customary  tenure,  wliich 
differs  but  little  from  that  by  copyhold  or  copy 
of  Court  Roll."  ...  "  They  live  meanly  and 
labour  hard,  and  many  of  them  in  the  vicinity 
of  Kendal,  Carlisle,  and  other  manuf^icturing  towns, 
busy  themselves  in  weaving  stuffs,  calico,  etc.,  to 
make  up  a  comfortable  subsistence  for  their 
families." 

1  So  sa)^  Parson  and  White  in  their  "  History  and  Directory 
of  Cumberland,"  p.  26,  1829. 

E 


66   STATESMEN   OF  WEST   CUMBERLAND 

In  addition  to  their  home  farms,  which  lay 
mainly  in  the  arable  and  pasture  districts  of  the 
dales,  they  usually  had  large  rights  of  free  pasture 
on  the  fells,  for  as  many  as  five  or  six  hundred 
sheep ;  sometimes  even  for  more  than  this.  The 
work  was  mostly  done  by  the  family — the  States- 
man, his  wife,  sons  and  daughters.  Their  life  was 
almost  as  penurious  as  that  of  a  French  peasant 
farmer  of  old  times,  though  in  other  respects 
happier ;  for  the  Statesman  had  no  need  to  hide 
away  his  hard-won  savings ;  he  had  no  need  to 
dress  in  rags,  as  the  Frenchman  thought  it 
prudent  to  do,  lest  he  should  be  suspected  of 
wealth ;  nor  would  he  think  a  family  of  above 
three  children  a  bit  of  culpable  extravagance. 
On  the  contrary,  fortunate  was  the  Cumberland 
man,  if  he  had  a  goodly  family  growing  up  around 
his  table :  he  had  plenty  of  work  to  give  them 
all,  sons  or  daughters :  one  observer  grows  quite 
romantic  over  the  rough  work  done  by  the  girls : 

"It  is  painful  to  one  who  has  in  his  composition 
the  smallest  spark  of  knight-errantry,"  writes  Mr 
Pringle,  in  1794  (in  his  "  View  of  the  Agriculture 
of    Westmoreland " ),    "  to    behold    the    beautiful 


THEIR   AVAY   OF   LIFE  67 

servant  -  maids  of  this  district  toiling  in  the 
severe  labours  of  the  field  ;  they  drive  the  harrows 
or  the  ploughs,  when  they  are  drawn  by  three 
horses ;  nay,  it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  sweat- 
ing at  the  dung-cart  a  girl  with  elegant  features 
and  delicate  nicely -proportioned  limbs,  seemingly 
but  ill  in  accord  with  such  rough  employ- 
ment." 

I  fear  that  if  this  knight-errant  had  ventured 
on  remonstrance,  he  might  have  been  still  more 
pained.  These  lads  and  damsels  saw^  no  disgrace 
or  degradation  in  farm-work,  following  it  with  a 
due  sense  of  the  social  unity  involved  in  it,  and 
with  the  native  pride  of  an  independent  com- 
munity. For  the  farm  was  their  common  duty 
and  common  pleasure  also ;  the  lands  were  very 
often  called  by  the  name  of  the  ftmiily  which  had 
owned  it,  and  had  hved  by  it  for  centuries.  The 
farmhouse  was  low  and  plain  ;  a  door  in  the  middle, 
the  sitting-room  on  the  one  side,  the  kitchen  on 
the  other;  all  plainly  and  substantially  furnished. 
I  once  asked  an  elderly  farmer's  wife,  Mrs  Stalker 
of  Lawson  Park,  just  above  Brantwood  on  Coniston 
Water,  how  long  her  kitchen  fire  had  been  burning, 
and  she  replied  that  the  fire-ilding  had  never  been 


68    STATESMEN   OF  WEST   CUMBERLAND 

let  die  out  in  her  memory,  and  that  went  back 
sixty  years.  This  hearth-fire  symbohsed  the  per- 
manence of  the  Statesman's  home  hfe  and  had 
almost  a  rehgious  significance ;  on  a  later  visit 
to  Brantwood,  I  was  very  sorry  to  learn  that 
the  Stalkers  were  gone,  and  that  the  fire  on  the 
hearth  had  been  quenched :  it  was  like  the  snap- 
ping of  an  ancient  string,  which  had  vibrated  long 
and  tunefully.  Behind  these  front  rooms  were  the 
offices,  the  dairy  and  the  cow-byre,  and  the 
"  hemel " ;  upstairs  were  bedrooms,  and  a  loft  in 
the  roof,  which  often  covered  stores  of  wool 
and  other  rougher  goods.  Nothing  could  have 
been  more  at  one  with  the  way  of  life  and  labour 
of  a  simple  community.  In  the  front  rooms  were 
always  treasured  heirlooms,  part  of  the  life  of  the 
family ;  fine  examples  of  black  oak  sideboards  or 
cupboards,  carved  boldly  and  well  by  some  long- 
forgotten  hand,  showing  initials  and  a  date  of 
perhaps  two  centuries  ago.  Such  may  still  be  seen 
in  Yewdale,  in  an  old  Statesman's  house,  now 
occupied  by  one  of  JNIr  Mctor  Marshall's  tenants ; 
or  in  Mr  Rigg's  farm  at  Lindale,  not  far  from 
Grange-over-sands,   in    Low    Furness.      In    these 


X 


g 


"< 


.o 

o 

O 


'-D 


a 

■n 
O 


:3 
P4 


THEIR   HOME-LIFE  69 

fine  pieces  of  furniture  were  stored  precious  bits 
of  china,  antique  glass,  much  well -woven  linen, 
pewter  plates  and  cups,  and  sometimes  an  ancient 
mazer-bowl.  These  things  are  very  dear  to  the 
Statesman ;  if  you  wish  to  offend  him,  offer  to  buy 
them !  you  might  as  well  try  to  persuade  him  to 
sell  you  one  of  the  bairns.  All  this  bravery 
typified  the  strength  of  the  family  coherence  and 
permanence,  now  too  often  lost  through  the 
pressure  of  modern  requirements  and  machine-gear. 
It  carried  these  families  through  many  generations 
of  hard  and  penurious  labour.  It  was  not  till  this 
century  that  the  invasion  of  new  conditions  broke 
into  the  dales  and  scattered  them.  Suspicious  of 
the  outer  world,  they  went  on  in  their  ancestral 
way,  shutting  their  eyes  to  these  great  changes, 
until  they  were  forced  to  give  up  the  unequal 
struggle,  and  to  leave  the  much-loved  dale,  and 
seek  fortune  elsewhere. 

A  writer  in  Macmillans  Magazine  (January, 
1893),  well  describes  the  characteristics  of  our 
friends : 

"  You  will  often  see  three  generations  together, 
which  for  strength,  fine  physique,  and  comeliness. 


70    STATESMEN   OF  WEST  CUMBERLAND 

may  have  their  equals,  but  hardly  their  superiors 
anywhere ;  they  are  renowned  for  their  strength 
and  stature  all  over  the  world " :  (many  of  them 
have  found  their  way  into  the  Guards).  "  Instead 
of  landlord,  farmer  and  labourer,  there  was  there 
but  one  class — the  class  of  men." 

They  had  a  high  self-respect  and  self-reliance  as 
of  freemen,  traditionally  conservative  in  character, 
and  of  generous  intelligence ;  the  Dent  Statesmen 
voted  as  one  man  for  William  Wilberforce,  and 
sent  him  to  St  Stephen's  as  champion  of  the  cause 
of  the  slaves.  A  characteristic  saying  is  recorded  ; 
a  Dalesman  was  talking  of  a  youth  then  just  going 
forth  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  world.  "  Eh  !  'tis  a 
deftly  farrant  lad ;  he'll  do  weel ;  he's  weel-come 
fra  Staetsmen  o'  baith  sides."  And  Nicholson  and 
Burn  in  1777  say  that  "the  inhabitants  of  this 
county  are  generally  a  sober,  social,  humane, 
civilised  people ;  owing  in  some  measure  to  the 
institution  of  small  schools  in  almost  every  village." 
They  add  that  the  district  was  populous ;  "  every 
man  lives  on  his  own  small  tenement,  and  the 
practice  of  accumulating  farms  hath  not  yet  here 
made  any  considerable  progress."  Unhappily,  this 
evil  began  directly  after  the   Napoleonic   period ; 


THEIR   SIMPLE   PROSPERITY  71 

now  wealth  has  seized  on  almost  all  these 
patriarchal  farms.  Let  us  add  Adam  Sedgwick's 
opinion  about  them  :  he  was  born  and  bred  up  in 
the  valley  of  Dent,  in  the  West  Riding,  though 
it  geogTaphically  belongs  to  the  Westmoreland 
district : 

"  Each  lived  on  his  own  paternal  glebe :  the 
estate  was  small ;  but  each  had  right  to  large  tracts 
of  mountain  pasturage,  and  each  Statesman  had  his 
flock  and  herd.  It  used  to  produce  nuich  wool, 
worked  for  home  use,  and  also  exported,  as  were 
gloves  and  stockings  knit  in  the  valley.  Dent  was 
then  a  land  of  rural  opulence  and  glee.  Children 
were  God's  blessed  gift  to  a  household,  and  happy 
the  man  who  had  his  quiver  full  of  them.  Each 
Statesman's  house  had  its  garden  and  orchard,  and 
other  good  signs  of  domestic  comfort.  These 
goodly  tokens  have  passed  out  of  sight,  or  are 
feebly  traced  by  some  aged  crab-tree  or  the  stump 
of  an  old  plum-tree,  which  marks  the  site  of  the 
ancient  family  orchard." 

In  this  idyllic  home  of  rustic  happiness  and 
self-contained  prosperity,  Sedgwick  tells  us  that 
their  manners  paid 

'"  A  striking  allegiance  to  some  of  the  external 
rules  of  courtesy :  the  Statesman  and   his   family 


72    STATESMEN   OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

had  no  polish  from  rubbing  up  against  the  outer 
world ;  their  manners  were  frank  and  cheerful, 
with  native  and  homely  courtesy,  springing  out 
of  a  feeling  of  independence  and  hearty  good 
will,  which  were  very  charming.  They  never 
passed  a  neighbour  or  even  a  stranger  without 
some  words  of  kind  greeting.  .  .  .  Among  them- 
selves the  salutations  were  at  once  simple, 
frank,  and  kind  ;  and  they  used  only  the  Christian 
name  to  a  Dalesman,  no  matter  what  his 
condition  of  life.  To  have  used  a  more  formal 
address  would  have  been  to  treat  him  as  a 
stranger,  and  unkindly  thrust  him  out  from  the 
brotherhood  of  the  Dale."^ 

It  is  with  a  sad  word  that  he  ends  his  de- 
scription : 

"  Dent  will  not  again  become  the  merry, 
industrious,  independent  little  world  it  was  in 
the  seventeenth  or  eighteenth  century,  during 
the  reign  of  the  ancient  resident  Statesmen."^ 

The  destructive  nineteenth  century  has  been 
too  much  for  them :  when  a  true  account  of 
the  material  glories  of  the  age  comes  to  be 
written,   the   extinction   of  the  Statesmen  should 

^  Sedgwick's  "Memorial  of  the  Trustees  of  Cowgill  Chapel, 
1868." 

2  Supplement  to  "  Memorial,"  etc.,  1870. 


INFLUENCES    AGAINST   THEM  73 

be  set  down  as  one  of  the  serious   evils,   though 
on     a     small     scale,     which     our     overwhelming 
materialism    and  worship   of    size    have    brought 
on  our  country.       For    in    this    century  the   old 
world  has  slowly  faded  away ;  coaches,    carriages, 
railways,  have  reached  the  innocent  valley  ;  and  we 
must   be    grateful   to    Sedgwick   for   his    faithful 
and   graphic    picture    of  the    simple    world.       In 
his    youth,    letters    had    hardly    penetrated    into 
the   Dales.     They   had    in   Dent  no  very  regular 
postman ;    he    came     in    once    or    twice    in    the 
week,   or  he   might  send  on   the   letters,  if  there 
were   any,    by   some  friendly  Dalesman.     Letters 
were  so  rare,  that  they  were  often  set  up  on  the 
chimney-piece,  to  indicate  the  importance   of  the 
family,  which,  maybe,  had  sons  out  in  the  world, 
patiently    carving   their    fortunes    in    JNIanchester 
or  even  in    London.     Sedgwick  Iiad   been   driven 
back   to   the    Dale  in    the    gloomy    days    wliich 
preceded     the    great     Peace,    and     he     liappily 
describes    a    scene,    wliich    we    shall    do   well    to 
borrow  from  his  rare  pages : 

"  I  had  found,"  he  writes,  "  a  refuge  in  Dent 
after  the    University    (of    Cambridge)    liad    been 


74    STATESMEN    OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

broken  up  by  a  fatal  fever.  .  .  .  At  that  time 
we  had  a  post  three  times  a  week,  and  each  of 
these  days,  to  the  great  comfort  of  the  aged 
postman,  I  rode  over  to  Sedbergh  to  bring  back 
the  newspapers  and  the  letters  to  my  country- 
men. Gloomy  reports  had  reached  us  of  a  battle 
and  a  retreat ;  but  another  and  a  greater  battle  was 
at  hand :  and  on  one  of  my  anxious  journeys, 
just  as  I  passed  over  the  Riggs,  I  heard 
the  sound  of  the  Sedbergh  bells.  Could  it  be, 
I  said,  the  news  of  a  victory  ?  No !  It  was  a 
full  hour  before  the  time  of  the  postman's  arrival. 
A  minute  afterwards  I  saw  a  countryman 
returning  hastily  from  Sedbergh.  '  Pray,  what 
means  that  ringing  ? '  I  said.  '  News,  sir,  sich 
as  niver  was  heard  before :  I  kna  lile  aboot  it, 
but  t'  Kendal  postman  had  just  come  an  hour 
before  his  time.  He  was  all  covered  with  ribbons, 
and  his  horse  was  all  covered  wi'  froth.'  Hear- 
ing this,  I  spurred  my  horse  to  the  Kendal 
postman's  speed ;  and  it  was  my  joyful  fortune 
to  reach  Sedbergh  not  many  minutes  after  the 
arrival  of  the  Gazette  Extraordinary  which  told 
us  of  the  great  victory  of  AVaterloo.  After 
joining  in  the  cheers  and  gratulations  of  my 
friends  at  Sedbergh,  I  returned  to  Dent  with 
what  speed  I  could  :  and  such  was  the  anxiety 
of  the  day  that  many  scores  of  the  Dalesmen 
met  me  on  the  way ;  and  no  time  was  lost  in 
our  return  to  the  market-place  of  Dent.  They 
ran  by  my  side  as  I  urged  on  my  horse :  and 
then    mounting    on    the  great    blocks    of    black 


THE   NEWS   OF  WATERLOO  75 

marble  from  tlie  top  of  which  my  countrymen 
have  so  often  heard  the  voice  of  the  auctioneer 
and  the  town-crier,  I  read  at  the  higliest  pitch 
of  my  voice  the  news  from  the  Gazette  Extra- 
ordinary to  the  anxious  crowd  which  pressed 
around  me.  After  the  tumultuous  cheers  had 
somewhat  subsided,  I  said,  '  Let  us  thank  God 
for  this  great  victory,  and  let  the  six  bells 
give  us  a  merry  peal.'  As  I  spoke  these 
words  an  old  weather-beaten  soldier  who  stood 
under  me  said,  '  It  is  great  news,  and  it  is 
good  news  —  if  it  brings  us  peace.  Yes,  let 
the  six  bells  ring  merrily ; —  but  it  has  been  a 
fearful  struggle,  and  how  many  aching  hearts 
there  will  be  when  the  list  of  killed  and 
wounded  becomes  known  to  the  mothers,  wives 
and  daughters  of  those  who  fought  and  bled  for 
us.  But  the  news  is  good,  and  let  the  six  bells 
rmg. 

So  wisely  and  thankfully  the  quiet  Dale 
received  the  news  of  the  Battle  of  Waterloo. 
Men  had  more  ballast  then  :  and  it  was  only 
^^"aterloo,  not  Mafeking. 

The  grave  spirit  with  which  the  Dalesmen 
received  the  news  of  \\''aterloo  was  like  the  careful 
prudence  of  their  character.  They  knew  that 
even  a  victory  brings  loss  in  its  disastrous 
train ;   though  they    could  not  foresee  that  peace 


76    STATESMEN   OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

with  bad  years  and  heavy  taxes  would  ruin 
their  happy  community.  From  this  time  on 
they  began  to  be  squeezed  out  of  their  httle 
freeholds ;  many  sank  into  poverty  and  took 
wages ;  the  younger  men,  and  the  more  capable, 
migrated,  and  often  prospered  well  in  that 
greater  world  which  had  been  fatal  to  their 
class  ;  even  if  they  prospered  ever  so  much  they 
rarely  returned  to  the  sweet  idyllic  life  of  their 
childhood. 

The  wealth  of  the  Dales  consisted  not  merely 
of  agricultural  produce,  which  was  small.  Their 
prescribed  right,  the  so-called  "  right  of  heaf," 
gave  each  of  them  pasturage  on  the  fells  for  a 
fine  flock  of  sheep ;  and  in  these,  the  sheep  of 
the  Herd  wick  breed,  lay  their  main  strength. 
The  legend  runs  that  an  unknown  ship  (the  story 
is  also  attached  to  the  Spanish  Armada)  was 
wrecked  on  the  coast ;  from  her  a  number  of  sheep 
swam  ashore ;  these  the  Statesmen,  who  usually 
came  down  when  there  was  a  disaster  to  see  what 
they  might  pick  up,  divided  among  themselves, 
and  drove  them  off  to  their  farms.  There  they 
found    at   once    that   these    Herdwicks,    as    they 


THEIR   HERDWICK   SHEEP 


/ 1 


are  called,  were  hardy,  quick,  and  apparently 
accustomed  to  mountains :  for  when  there  came 
down  a  great  snowstorm,  instead  of  following 
the  other  sheep  and  taking  refuge  in  a  water- 
course for  shelter,  and  there  being  snowed  up, 
the  Herdwicks  at  once  made  their  way  upwards 
to  the  highest  point  and  there  bravely  fought  the 
storm,  finding  some  browsing  on  the  hill  top, 
which  was  usually  swept  clear  by  the  wind. 
They  have  what  is  sometimes  called  two  fleeces, 
a  longer  one  above  and  a  warm  waistcoat  inside, 
which  is  the  close  fine  wool  of  the  next  year's 
fleece,  this  enables  them  to  defy  the  bitterness  of 
mountain  storms.  No  one  can  explain  the  special 
name  of  Herdwick ;  the  truth  probably  is,  as  JMr 
Ellwood  has  put  it,  that  these  sheep  are  of 
Norwegian  origin,  and  may  be  derived  from  the 
Scandinavian  settlers  of  tlie  tenth  and  eleventh 
centuries. 

The  Dalesmen  liad  also  a  good  breed  of 
horses ;  the  Galloways  of  Dent  were  well-known. 
They  had  also  cattle,  hardy  and  rougli ;  they 
exported  much  butter.  The  women  were  active 
and    thrifty ;    intelligent    housewives,    ftxmcd    for 


78    STATESMEN   OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

many   a   practical   gift.     A   clever   lass   could   do 

four  things  at  once — 

"She  kuaws  how  to  sing  and  knit, 
And  she  knaws  how  to  carry  the  kit, 
While  she  drives  her  kye  to  pasture." 

Their  wool  became  famous  in  the  towns ;  and  so 
did  the  produce  of  their  clever  fingers ;  they 
knitted  or  wove  all  that  was  needful  for  clothing. 
In  this  way  they  were  very  like  the  corresponding 
farmers  of  Norway,  who  are  entirely  clad  in 
the  well-known  "  wadmal,"  the  homespun  and 
woven  cloth,  which  in  almost  every  cottage  is 
made   for  the   use   of  the   family. 

Some  of  the  more  active  men  became  middle- 
men, and  rode  to  JNIanchester  or  even  to  I^ondon, 
to  deal  with  the  mercers  of  Cheapside.  In  the 
days  of  the  Seven  Years'  War  there  were  govern- 
ment agents  at  Kirkby  Lonsdale,  Kendal,  and 
Kirkby  Stephen,  engaged  in  buying  the  produce 
of  the  Dales  for  the  clothing  of  the  soldiers  in 
Germany ;  and  sound  material  and  conscientious 
labour  made  their  stockings  famous,  and  created  a 
profitable  trade.  It  was  knitting  which  formed 
the  connection   between  work  and  entertainment 


A  LAATIN'   RAA  79 

in  the  Dales.  The  knitters  were  always  lively 
gossips ;  and  it  was  usual  to  find  the  whole 
"laatin"'^  (a  North-country  word  signifying  the 
group  of  houses  which  were  within  distance  foi- 
invitation,  so  that  the  laatin  rd  is  simply  the 
"  inviting  row,"  or  ''  seeking  row.")  The  entertain- 
ment was  styled  "  ganging  a  sitting,"  which  began 
with  a  kind  of  contest  in  speed  of  knitting 
gloves  or  stockings ;  and  all  the  time  there  was 
no  lack  of  gossip  and  laughter.  One  girl  would 
then  be  asked  to  read,  and  could  do  so  quite 
comfortably,  without  stopping  her  work ;  all  sat 
silent,  listening,  as  the  reader  gave  them  page 
after  page  of  "  Robinson  Crusoe "  or  "  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress."  After  a  bit,  to  give  rest, 
the  reading  was  suspended,  and  the  women  talked 
over  what  they  had  heard,  or  resumed  the 
interesting  threads  of  local  talk  and  gossip.  The 
T-<aatin'  was  also  called  together  on  great  occasions 
— for  a  birth  or  a  funeral :  if  a  birth,  then  tlie 
essential     dish     was     "rum     butter,"     a     terrible 

'  This  is  the  old  A.S.  word  /aJiiw<7  =  a  coiigregation  or  assembly, 
and  so  late  as  Bailey's  "Dictionary,"  1761,  we  find  " LafJiin^, 
entreaty,  invitation," 


80    STATESMEN   OF   WEST  CUMBERLAND 

compound    of  sugar  and    rum,   with,    I    take   it, 
a  little  flour,  served  up   in   a   noble   china  bowl. 
I  remember  it  well,  it  was  given  us   to  eat   on 
bread     or     biscuit ;    it     appeared     at     the     birth 
of   my   youngest   brother   in    1832.     There    were 
romps   too ;  there   was   a  relic  of  the   old   merry 
violence,  when,  at  "  an   old  wives'  do,"  the  lads 
would  burst  in  on  the  women  and  steal,  if  they 
could,   the   bowl   with   the   sweet   butter   off  the 
table.     And  the  women  also  had  their  own  sport 
— they  set  a  can  on  the  floor,  with  a  brush  broom 
in  it,  without  a  handle,  and  each  of  them  had  to 
jump  over  it,  if  she  could ;  the  clumsy  or  the  stiff" 
got  no  mercy  if  they  upset  the  can.     There  was 
a  merry  simplicity  about  it  all.     When  a  marriage 
came,  the  whole  district  far  wider  than  the  "  Laatin'  " 
was  roused  to  the  utmost  excitement ;  the  men  in 
their  bravest  homespun  ;  the  women  in  bright  blue, 
the  bride's  colour,  or  white  or  red ;  no  green  was 
possible  ;  was  it  not  the  colour  of  the  forsaken  one, 
the  willow  green  of  disgrace  ?     After  the  marriage 
ceremony  was  over,  after  which  the  country  priest 
gave  them  some  homely  good   advice,  instead  of 
the  "amazement,"  conclusion,  they  went  into  the 


MARRIAGE  USAGES  81 

Churchyard,  where  there  was  hiughing  and  some 
kissing  and  play — till  the  young  fellows  had  pulled 
off  their  shoes  and  stockings,  showing  the  varied 
coloured  ribbons  which  crossed  over  their  legs. 
Then  at  a  signal  they  started  for  a  race  from  the 
church  to  the  bride's  new  home.  The  winner  had 
the  right  to  return,  hot  and  breathless,  to  meet  the 
bride  and  her  party,  who  had  meanwhile  been 
leisurely  walking  to  the  house.  And  he  returned 
to  claim  a  kiss  and  a  piece  of  ribbon  as  his  prize. 
After  that  came  merry  feasting  and  often  some 
dancing.  Adam  Sedgwick  gives  us  one  parting 
touch.  In  the  end  the  girls  of  the  party  attended 
the  bride  to  her  chamber  and  helped  her  to 
undress.  With  the  stocking  off  the  left  leg 
in  her  hand  she  climbed  up  into  the  bed, 
and  sat  down  facing  the  pillow,  and  with  her 
back  to  the  lasses,  who  stood  round ;  then, 
without  looking  at  them,  she  flung  the  stocking- 
over  her  right  shoulder,  and  the  girl  on  whom  it 
lighted,  it  was  thought,  would  be  the  next  bride. 

There  were  also  peculiarities  of  burial  usage. 
There  was  a  lyke-way  in  every  parisl),  along 
which  the  colHn  must  be  brought  to  the  Church- 

F 


82    STATESMEN   OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

yard.  In  rainy  weather  the  lane  might  be  full 
of  water,  while  the  neighbouring  meadows 
were  dry ;  still,  the  bearers  must  not  swerve ; 
they  waded  through  the  flood,  with  the  body 
on  their  shoulders,  while  mourners  and  friends 
escaped  the  ducking  by  leaving  the  path,  and 
taking  to  the  fields.  After  the  burial  there  was 
a  solemn  "lyk-wake,"  open  house  with  such 
hospitality  as  the  people  could  afford ;  and  after 
that  any  one  who  came  to  the  door  would  receive 
the  "  arval-bread,"  a  word  used  in  Mrs  Lynn 
Linton's  novel,  "Lizzie  Lorton "  (1867),  and 
scarcely  to  be  treated  as  obsolete.  This  was 
a  small  loaf,  a  cake  spiced  and  sweet,  having 
in  it  cinnamon,  nutmeg,  sugar  and  raisins.  The 
arval  was  a  distinctly  Scandinavian  word ;  we 
find  it  in  the  old  Icelandic  in  erji  and  erfi-ol,  the 
ale  of  the  inheritor,  which  meant  a  funeral  feast. 
In  the  Danish  word  arvebl,  the  thought  of 
inheritance  is  prominent ;  it  was  the  heir's  act, 
a  first-fruits  of  his  new  wealth  offered  to  his 
neighbours.  Another  ancient  usage  of  Cumber- 
land Statesmen  was  the  keeping  of  Beltain-day; 
round  which  clustered  a  whole  group  of  picturesque 


BELTAIN   DAY  83 

doings.  The  word  is  certainly  Celtic,  and  not 
connected  with  any  notion  of  the  worship  of  Baal. 
It  marked  a  festival  which  heralded  the  incoming 
of  summer  ;  the  joy  of  the  bright  season  after  long 
snow  and  fog  and  short  days.  Pennant  (1774), 
says  that  "  till  of  late  years  the  superstition  of  the 
Beltain  was  kept  up  (in  Cumberland)  and  in  this 
rude  sacrifice  it  was  customary  for  the  performers 
to  bring  with  them  boughs  of  the  mountain 
ash " ;  the  sacred  rowan-tree  had  a  special 
rehgious  significance.  AVhen  Beltain  was  kept, 
and  the  time  of  it  varied  considerably,  from 
11th  INIay  to  St  Peters  day  (29th  June),  the 
young  men  lighted  baal-fires  on  the  hill-tops ; 
and  Jameson  says,  "  every  member  of  the  family 
is  made  to  pass  through  the  fire  ...  to 
ensure  good  fortune  for  the  coming  year " ;  it  is 
easy  to  see  how  readily  tlie  children  would 
fall  in  with  this  superstition  ;  they  are  as  much 
lured  by  a  bright  blaze  as  if  they  were  moths. 
Neither  Moloch,  nor  any  of  "  the  abominations 
of  the  heathen,"  had  anything  to  do  witli  it,  it 
was  but  a  natural  outburst  of  human  paganism. 
There  was  also  a  usage  of  visiting  and  decorating 


84    STATESMEN   OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

wells ;  near  Penrith  there  are  four  such  wells 
which  were  visited  and  decked  out  on  the  four 
Sundays  of  May.  This  may  be  a  relic  of  a  far 
older  religion ;  these  things  are  certainly  not 
peculiar  to  the  Dales. 

Such  were  the  stout  men  who  managed  their 
own  farms  in  spite  of  rougli  weather  and  un- 
productive soil,  the  old  "  Cumberland  Grey 
Coats,"  with  breeches  made  from  their  own  wool, 
spun  in  the  winter  evenings,  with  woollen 
stockings  and  strong  stout  clogs  which  defied  the 
wet.  We  have  a  description  of  that  well-known 
parson  of  Seathwaite,  "  Wonderful  Walker," 
from  Wordsworth's  pen,  in  his  note  on  his 
Sonnets  on  Duddon  ^"ale.  Walker  was  a  States- 
man's son,  and  himself  a  Statesman  in  heart. 
He  tilled  his  glebe  with  skill  and  diligence ;  he 
had  but  the  small  stipend  from  his  church  of 
about  £43  a  year,  but  then  he  ploughed  and 
dug  like  a  man,  he  spun  the  wool  off  his  sheep, 
he  knitted  goodly  stockings,  and,  being  a  scholar, 
drew  his  parishioners'  wills,  and  wrote  their 
letters  for  them ;  he  held  his  parish  school  in 
the   Church,    sitting  inside   the  chancel  rails,  and 


WONDERFUL    WALKER  85 

using  the  holy  table  as  he  needed  it ;  he  was 
dressed    in 

"  A  coarse  blue  frock,  trimmed  with  black  horn 
buttons,  a  check  shirt,  a  leathern  strap  about 
his  neck  for  a  neck-cloth,  a  coarse  apron,  and 
a  pair  of  big  wooden  soled  shoes,  shod  with 
iron,  on  his  feet.  I  confess,"  said  the  narrator, 
"  myself  astonished  with  the  alacrity  and  the 
good  humour  that  appeared  in  the  clergyman 
and  his  wife ;  still  more,  at  the  sense  and 
ingenuity  of  the  clergyman  himself."^ 

This  stalwart  old  man  ruled  over  his  simple 
flock  for  a  long  life ;  and  died  at  the  age  of 
ninety-three.  His  thrifty  and  canny  dealings 
won  him  the  respect  of  all,  and  in  the  end 
enabled  him  to  leave  behind  him  an  accumula- 
tion of  small  sums,  wliich  had  mounted  up  to 
two  thousand  pounds.  If  the  description  of 
this  old  man's  simple  way  of  doing  his  duty 
seems  strange  to  modern  ears,  I  should  like  to 
set  over  against  it  another  illustration  of  the 
ways  of  the  Dale  parishes,  whicli  is  a  tradition 
from  my  own  Statesman  folk.     In  the  beginning 

^  From  a  letter  printed  in  the  "Annual  Register"  for  1760, 
and  dated  1754. 


8G    STATESMEN   OF  WEST   CUMBERLAND 

of  the  nineteenth  century,  about  1807  to  1808, 
the  headmaster  of  the  St  Bees'  Grammar  School 
was  also  in  charge  of  Haile,  a  little  village  in 
the  upper  country  behind  St  Bees'.  JNIy  father 
was  educated  under  him  at  the  Grammar  School, 
and  rose  to  the  head  of  the  top  form.  Not 
unfrequently,  I  have  heard  him  tell,  the  Master 
would  come  in  on  a  Saturday,  and  speaking  in 
his  broad  Cumbrian,  would  say  : 

"  Laads,  I'm  let  from  going  up  to  Haile 
t'  morrow " ;  and  then  turning  to  the  two  head 
boys,  he   would   add,  "  and  so  you,  Kitchin,  and 

you ,  will  go  up  for  me  to-morrow,  and  here 

is  t'  prayer-book  for  Kitchin,  and  t'  sermon  for 
you ,  and  mind  ye  dinna  laffT 

And  the  two  boys  went  off  gleefully,  and 
took  the  duty  again  and  again.  I  believe  it  set 
my  father  thinking  about  Orders,  for  he  went  that 
way  as  soon  as  he  could,  and  after  a  few  years 
began  clerical  life  as  curate  at  this  very  church  of 
Haile  at  which  he  had  sometimes  officiated  as  a 
schoolboy. 

All  such  things  haA^e  long  ago  passed  away,  as 
has  also  the   peculiar  dress  of  the  "  Cumberland 


THEIR   COSTUME  87 

Grey  Coats."  They  might  sometimes  be  seen 
some  fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  but  now  never.  In 
Professor  Sedgwick's  "  ^Memorial,"  (1870),  we  find 
the  old  man  regi*etting  the  decay : 

"  Many  times  on  a  Sunday  morning  I  have 
regretted  that  I  would  no  longer  see  the  old 
Statesman  riding  along  the  rough  and  rugged  road 
with  his  wife  behind  him  mounted  upon  a  gorgeous 
family  pillow,  and  his  daughters  walking  briskly  at 
his  side,  in  their  long,  flowing,  scarlet  cloaks  with 
silken  hoods." 

I  have  seen  (on  a  doll)  a  professed  copy  of  a 
Statesman's  daughter's  full  Sunday  dress ;  she  was 
smart  and  comely,  with  a  coif  and  a  low  hat  over 
it,  then  a  short  jacket,  showing  a  Avarm  body,  a 
short  skirt,  with  a  bright  red  petticoat  well  to  be 
seen,  then  black  knitted  stockings,  and  a  pair  of 
strong  country  clogs  with  clasps.  The  ruthless 
incursion  of  what  they  call  civilised  life  has 
altogether  destroyed  all  these  lovely  varieties  in 
dress,  varieties  which  of  old  had  eloquent  meaning. 
It  now  remains  for  me  only  to  trace,  very  poorly 
it  must  be,  the  gradual  weakening,  and  indeed  the 
approach  of  the  obliteration  of  this  sturdy  yeoman- 
class,    who    for    strength    of    character,    caution, 


88    STATESMEN   OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

simplicity  of  habits,  moderation  and  an  open-air 
life,  stood,  one  might  have  thought,  a  very  fine 
chance  of  resisting  outside  influences,  and  of 
retaining  their  independence  as  a  most  valuable 
element  in  their  country's  well-being.  For  they 
have  gone,  not  from  their  weaknesses,  but  from 
their  strength.  They  were  not  at  all,  as  a 
Statesman  would  have  said,  "  o  tli  danet,''  that  is, 
they  were  not  the  thistles  and  docks  and  rank-stuff* 
of  a  neglected  field-side ;  there  was  less  of  "  de'ils- 
grass  "  in  their  pasturage  than  elsewhere,  but  their 
qualities  seemed  all  to  turn  against  them,  till  it 
almost  seemed  as  if  the  conservative  tendencies  of 
the  old  landholding  men  of  England  was  a  fatal 
bar  to  their  continuance.     A  thousand  pities  ! 

The  Statesmen  then  were  an  intermediate  class 
between  the  body  of  larger  landholders  in  the 
county,  and  tenant  farmers  beneath  them.  They 
are  best  described  as  customary  freeholders,  the 
oldest  stock  of  free  voters  for  Knights  of  the  Shire. 
In  the  Reform  days  their  candidate,  INIr  Blamire, 
carried  Sir  James  Graham,  who  had  no  particular 
love  for  his  comrade,  into  Parhament  with  him. 
Yet  ere  this,  Blackstone,  writing  in  the  middle  of 


THEIK   GRADUAL   DISAPPEARANCE      89 

the  eigliteenth  century  saw  that  "  in  England 
alone  a  tendency  to  larger  occupations  may  be 
noticed " ;  the  influences  which  were  to  pull  the 
Statesmen  down  were  already  felt.  It  was  not  till 
after  the  peace  of  1815  that  bad  years  and  high 
taxes  brought  many  of  them  to  the  ground.  Their 
numbers  fell  off;  in  Gosforth  parish,  for  example, 
there  were  thirty-three  Statesmen  in  1800,  and  at 
the  present  time  there  are  but  ten. 

The  causes  of  this  loss  are  plain  enough.  The 
bad  years  and  the  growth  of  outside  interests  set 
the  young  people  moving ;  it  was  the  beginning  of 
the  steady  stream  which  has  run  ever  since  from 
land  to  town.  Machinery  made  home  industry 
difficult,  and  eased  the  way  for  locomotion. 
Dalesmen  no  longer  spun  and  knitted  at  liome ; 
the  sons  and  daugl iters  drifted  away  from  the 
ancestral  farm  and  sought  fortunes  in  tlie  world. 
Sedgwick  tells  us  of  one  very  characteristic 
example  in  JMr  Dawson,  a  kindly  and  skilful 
surgeon,  who  was  famous  all  over  the  country  as  a 
teacher  of  high  mathematics.  He  was  the  son  of 
a  small  Statesman  of  Garsdale,  not  far  from 
Sedburgh ;    he    had    no    teacher,    no    books,    no 


90    STATESMEN   OF  WEST   CUMBERLAND 

encouragement.  They  opposed  him  and  ridiculed 
his  efforts.  Yet  he  persevered  and  became  so 
strong  in  mathematics  that  three  undergraduates 
from  Cambridge  sought  him  out,  and  spent  their 
summer  near  him  in  Garsdale.  A  surgeon  at 
Lancaster  heard  of  him,  took  him  into  his  house, 
first  as  a  pupil,  then  as  assistant ;  books  were 
accessible,  and  there  was  sympathy  and  help.  He 
saved  a  hundred  guineas,  stitched  them  into  the 
back  of  his  waistcoat,  shouldered  a  bundle  of 
clothes,  and  trudged  off  to  Edinburgh,  where  he 
entered  the  University,  stayed  there  so  long  as  his 
guineas  lasted,  and  then  returned  to  Sedburgh. 
Plenty  of  work  now  came  to  him,  he  saved  more 
money,  and  walked  to  London  where  he  took  his 
degree.  After  this  he  finally  settled  in  his  beloved 
dale,  and  passed  there  a  long  and  useful  life  as 
surgeon  and  friend  of  the  whole  district,  and  as  a 
mathematical  tutor.  He  is  said  to  have  trained  as 
many  as  ten  or  eleven  senior  wranglers.  To  the 
end  of  his  life  he  always  wore  the  sober  grey 
Dalesman  dress. 

Other  young  men  left  the  breezy  freshness  of 
the    Dale     and     became    shopmen.      It    seemed 


THEIR   GRADUAL   DISAPPEARANCE      91 

singular  that  they  should  be  specially  attracted  by 
the    stuffy    and    unwholesome    atmosphere    of   a 
draper's    shop.      Their    Herdwick    wool    was    the 
introduction.     So   the  world   came   nearer  to  the 
Statesmen,  and  they  to  the  world.     Meanwdiile  the 
ftirm  did  not  prosper ;  what  it  could  grow  or  make 
became  less  valuable,  and  the  charges  on  the  house 
and    land   were   heavier.      Life   w^as   now   dearer, 
unknown  necessities  arose,  and  the  honest  farmer 
was    drifting    slowly    and    sadly    into    difficulties. 
AMiile  there  was  less  and  less  hope  of  making  a 
comfortable  liveMhood  out  of  the   land,    and   the 
farmer's  heart  failed  him,  the  value  of  his  freehold 
still  tended  to  rise,  not  to  fall  as  it  should  liave 
done.     So  that,  as  the  difficulty  of  living  increased, 
the  temptation  to  throw  the  whole  thing  up,  and 
to    try   some    other   way   of    life    increased    also. 
'J'here  were  rich  people,  iron-men,  and  others,  who 
wanted  to  create  an  estate,  and  were  glad  to  tempt 
the  poor  farmer,  often  encumbered  with  debts  and 
mortgages    incurred    in    tlie    bringing    up    of    his 
family,  to  relieve  himself  of  all  present  anxiety  by 
selhng  his  land  for  a  good  round   sum  of   ready 
money.     This  would  clear  off  all  embarrassments 


92    STATESMEN   OF   WEST   CUMBERLAND 

and  leave  him  with  a  httle  capital,  with  which  to 
make  a  fresh  start  in  life.  Or  if  the  head  of  the 
family  died  young,  leaving  a  poor  widow  with 
half-a-dozen  bairns  to  bring  up,  the  end  would  not 
be  far  off.  Or  a  Statesman,  roughing  it  in  all 
weathers,  drenched  in  mist  or  blinded  with  snow, 
contracted  a  fatal  habit  of  spirit-drinking,  the  most 
ruinous  of  all  the  causes  of  extinction.  A  friendly 
watcher  of  these  interesting  farmers  told  me  that 
when  a  Statesman  took  to  spirits,  at  first  he 
seemed  to  grow  in  bulk,  became  fatter  and  ruddy, 
and  seem  to  be  buoyant  enough  to  ride  through 
all  troubles — and  that  then  his  neighbours  would 
shake  their  heads,  and  say,  "I'm  afeard  Geordie  is 
swelling  and  growing  vera  stout,  it's  a  bad  sign  for 
him,  puir  lad  "  ;  and  it  was  so  indeed  ;  after  a  year 
or  two  he  would  entirely  break  down  ;  the  neglected 
land  would  come  to  the  hammer,  and  the  ancient 
home  be  broken  up.  And  so  the  sad  decay  of  a 
century  at  least,  has  ended  in  the  reduction  of  the 
number  of  Statesmen  to  a  mere  handful. 

Have  we  reached  the  end  of  this  melancholy 
period  ?  I  fear  we  have  not.  Nothing  is  done 
to  give  the   small   farmer  a   chance,  and   yet  we 


THEIR   PRESENT   COxVDITION  93 

are  often  told  that  in  these  days  it  is  only  the 
small  man  who  can  weather  the  bad  times. 
Everything  seems  to  be  against  them  ;  there  is 
no  effort  to  replace  the  small  agriculturist  on 
his  little  farm  ;  no  Banks  like  the  German 
Landbanks,  no  facilities  for  creating  markets, 
no  combinations  of  machines,  no  special  and 
proper  education  for  them  except  at  distant 
centres.  Their  land  is  burdened,  men  are 
impatient  of  poverty  and  imwilling  to  live  simply. 
The  land  will  never  again  make  fortunes  for 
the  cultivator.  He  has  an  interesting  calling 
and  a  healthy  life ;  but  he  must  be  careful, 
penurious,  devoted  to  the  soil.  He  might  have 
a  much  worse  fate;  still,  in  these  gambling  days 
it  is  inevitable  that  men  should  refuse  this  quiet 
uneventful  career  and  take  instead  the  chances 
of  a  competition  in  which  the  prizes  are  brilliant 
and  the  failures  forgotten. 

The  remaining  Statesmen  are  men  who  have 
survived  by  consoUdating  small  holdings ;  the 
old  holdings  of  fifty  or  sixty  acres  are  almost 
all  gone,  the  old  patriarclial  conditions  have 
disappeared.     TJiere  is    still    nuich    of  the  ancient 


94    STATESMEN   OF  WEST  CUMBERLAND 

shrewdness  and  of  that  natural  suspicion  which 
the  authoress  of  "  Lizzie  Lorton "  notices  as  a 
special  quality  of  the  Dalesmen.  The  old  stuff 
survives  ;  one  ever  wishes  that  this  conservative 
element  of  our  race  might  return  to  the  land, 
and  continue  to  cultivate  the  wild  fell-sides,  and 
the  beautiful  green  meadows  of  their  lower  land 
in  a  peaceful  and  useful  life.  It  is,  I  fear,  more 
than  one  can  hope  for;  the  set  is  too  strong 
aejainst  this  honest  and  wholesome  life ;  there 
is  an  ardent  craving  for  excitement  and  motion, 
and  a  haste  to  get  rich  without  trouble.  The 
old  thrifty  and  persistent  qualities  of  the  country- 
born  people  of  England  have  mostly  disappeared  ; 
the  town  far  outnumbers  the  country ;  and  town 
habits,  amusements,  vices,  have  the  lead  every- 
where. We  must  surely  look  with  uneasy  doubt 
at  the  general  result  of  it  on  the  character  of 
our  people.  Have  we  fallen  back  in  the  period  ? 
Is  the  old  sense  of  generosity,  of  truth,  of  honour 
as  keen  as  it  used  to  be?  Are  we  bigger  and 
worse  than  we  were  ?  Have  we  reached  the  point 
at  which  lAvy,^  saw  his  fellow-countrymen  with 
1  Livii,  Hist.  Bk.  I.  Priefatio. 


THE   FUTURE   FOR  THEM  95 

sorrowful  eyes,  descending  down  the  swift  grade 
of  Imperial  corruption  and  vice  ?  "  Ut  magis 
magisque  lapsi  sint,  turn  ire  coeperint  praecipites : 
donee  ad  haec  tempora  quibus  nee  vitia  nostra 
nee  remedia  pati  possumus,  perventum  est." 
And,  in  truth,  one  cannot  see  that  there  is  any 
hope  for  the  restoration  of  the  ancient  rugged 
virtues  of  the  Statesman  class,  or  the  return  of 
them  to  the  quiet  and  happy  dales  from  which 
they  have  been  driven  out  by  the  baleful  power 
of  money. 


Ill 

WHITBY  ABBEY 

A    STUDY    OF    CELTIC    AND    LATIN    MONASTICISM 

The  materials  for  the  history  of  the  earlier  Abbey 
are  very  scanty ;  he  who  interprets  them  under 
influences  of  modern  ideas  is  certain  to  make 
mistakes.  JNIy  aim  has  been  simply  to  draw  a 
contrast  between  the  earlier  and  the  later  founda- 
tions of  Streoneshalh,  and  thereby  to  bring  before 
your  eyes  the  forgotten  phenomena  of  a  very 
ancient  Celtic  community,  which  differs  in  many 
striking  points  from  Benedictine  monasteries. 

I  am  aware  that  I  have,  with  eyes  open,  passed 
over  many  important  matters  in  the  history  of 
Whitby.  Thus,  we  might  have  spent  an  inter- 
esting hour  dealing  with  the  organisation  of  the 
Benedictine   Abbey ;    or   we   might  have   studied 

96 


AN   ANCIENT   COMMUNITY  97 

the  effects  of  this  well-marked  corporate  existence 
on  the  constitutional  and  social  growth  of  England  ; 
or  we  might  have  picked  up  fascinating  details 
in  the  more  modern  story  of  Cleveland  ;  or  we 
might  easily  have  been  engrossed  by  the  beauties 
and  the  varied  natural  history  of  Whitby. 

It  seemed  better  to  bear  in  mind  one  thought 
only,  and  so  to  make  this  essay  an  account  of  the 
structure  of  a  community  which  is  now  entirely 
forgotten  among  us,  partly  through  antiquity, 
still  more  because,  consciously  or  not,  we  are 
apt  to  deal  with  it  in  terms  of  a  technical  kind 
which  are,  in  fact,  so  many  anachronisms.  It 
is  by  such  unnoticed  changes  in  thought  and 
speech,  from  age  to  age,  that  oiu'  theology  and 
our  history  are  ever  suffering  distortion  and 
degradation :  our  view  of  life  is  blurred ;  the 
long  perspectives,  with  all  their  sweet  irregu- 
larities and  far-off  distances,  are  reduced  by  us, 
till  they  become  a  skilful  bit  of  painting  projected 
on   a   smooth   level   canvas   a   few   feet  from  our 

eyes. 

Those    whose     aim     is    the     discernment     of 
truth    will    welcome   any   attempt    to    sliow    the 

G 


98  WHITBY   ABBEY 

true  proportions  of  history.  This  is  why  I  make 
this  attempt  to  reconstruct  a  forgotten  bit  of 
early  Church  history,  as  it  was  developed  by 
the  poetic  and  affectionate  nature  of  the  Celts 
some  twelve  hundred  years  ago.  An  account 
of  their  endeavours  in  the  young  days  of  the 
Christianity  of  these  islands  is,  I  think,  of  special 
interest,  because  it  shows  that  that  warm-hearted 
and  stubborn  race  were  not  then  enslaved,  nor 
indeed  are  they  now  enslaved,  under  the  legal 
bondage  of  the  Latin  world.  Their  religion,  their 
law  and  custom,  their  institutions,  are  little  under- 
stood by  others.  We  English  have  been  hard, 
often  unjust,  stepmothers  to  this  devoted  and 
tenacious  race,  because  we  refuse  to  understand 
their  clan  feelings  and  usages,  and  therefore  try 
to  govern  them  under  conditions,  easy  for  us 
Anglo-Saxons,  but  painfully  difficult  for  their 
imaginative  and  often  unreasonable  natures. 
Perhaps  if  we  had  more  imagination  and  less 
common-sense  we  should  understand  them  better 
and  love  them  more. 

When  Canon  Atkinson  in  his  "  Memorials  of 
Old  Whitby,"  tells  us  that  "this  was   the  most 


THE   DANISH   WHITBY  99 

Danish  part  of  the  Danish  counties,"  he  certainly 
does  not  go  beyond  the  truth.  ^  No  one  can  visit 
the  Parish  Church  without  being  struck  by  the 
odd  arrangements  of  galleries  on  every  side.  If  he 
has  ever  been  in  the  churches  of  Denmark  he  will 
recognise  at  once  the  singular  resemblance  between 
these  fantastic  galleries,  built  up  on  the  four  sides 
of  the  nave,  and  entered,  in  some  cases,  even  from 
the  outside  of  the  building.  He  will  at  once  see 
the  likeness  of  the  Parish  Church,  in  this  respect, 
with  the  internal  fittings  of,  say,  St  Olafs  in 
Elsinore,  or  indeed  of  almost  any  considerable 
church  in  the  Danish  Isles.  This  resemblance  is 
probably  due  to  a  kind  of  instinctive  acceptance  of 
some  wScandinavian  qualities.  Some  incumbent  of 
the  future,  no  doubt  anxious  to  reduce  AVhitby 
Church  to  a  I^atin  uniformity  of  dulness,  and  to 
make  it  as  uninteresting  as  modern  sham- Gothic 
buildings  are,  will  piously  set  himself  to  obliterate 
the  features  of  this  most  characteristic  church ;  so 
making  it  a  servile  copy  of  a  thousand  connnon 
and    correct   Englisli    places   of  worship ;    he   will 

1  Canon  J.  C.  Atkinson,  D.C.L.,  "Memorials  of  Old  Whitby," 
p.  xiii. 


TOO  WHITBY   ABBEY 

pride  himself  on  sweeping  away  these  evidences  of 
past  feeUng ;  and  the  church  will  then  cease  to  be 
an  ancient  and  spontaneous  expression  of  the  old 
connection  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  district  with 
the  Scandinavian  world. ^ 

Our  subject,  however,  is  not  the  influence  or 
infusion  of  Scandinavian  blood,  but  the  contrast 
of  the  two  successive  abbeys  which  crowned  the 
eastern  hill  above  the  red  roofs  of  Whitby  town. 
Of  these  the  earlier,  which  lasted  for  about  two 
centuries  (a.d.  665-867),  was  chiefly  of  British  or 
Celtic  origin;  the  later  (a.d.  1080-1541),  Norman 

1  The  Scandinavian  influence  on  language  in  these  parts  is 
testified  to  by  the  tradition  that  Norwegian  and  Danish  ships 
used  to  call  at  Robin  Hood's  Bay  in  former  days,  because  the 
sailors  could  make  themselves  understood  by  the  inhabitants. 
A  Danish  officer  once  told  me  that  in  the  time  of  the  Dano- 
Prussian  War  an  old  deserter  presented  himself  one  morning  at 
the  headquarters  of  his  regiment,  begging  to  be  readmitted  as 
a  volunteer,  and  saying  that  he  had  returned  from  the  United 
States  to  fight  for  his  country.  When  they  asked  him  how  he 
liad  made  his  way  to  America  without  knowing  any  English,  he 
told  them  that  his  regiment  was  then  quartered  in  .Jutland  ;  that 
he  got  over  in  a  friend's  vessel  to  Newcastle,  and  thence  walked 
across  to  Liverpool ;  but  that  he  had  never  met  any  one  on  his 
walk  who  did  not  know  enough  Danish  to  understand  and  help 
liim. 


IMPORTANCE   OF  THE   SITE  101 

and  Benedictine.  I  know  no  place  where  the 
contrast  between  these  two  types  is  seen  so 
well.  The  Danish  influence,  powerful  as  it 
proved  to  be,  fills  the  two  centuries  between 
the  two  abbeys.  Indeed,  it  speaks  volumes  for 
the  strength  of  the  Scandinavian  nature,  that 
though  the  Danes  came  in  as  savage  enemies, 
looting  and  destroying  as  they  would,  they 
still  settled  down  to  influence  and  control  the 
destinies  of  the  district,  and  in  so  doing  to 
become  an  integral  part  of  the  nation.  AVhitby 
thus  became  a  very  important  point,  a  place 
of  safe  and  easy  entry,  for  the  system  of  the 
Danelagh  ^  which  occupied  most  of  the  eastern 
side  of  England.  The  Danes  introduced  their 
own  special  institutions,  and  gave  to  the  town 
its  modern  name.  All  through  this  district 
Scandinavian  names  are  very  common.  We  find 
in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  a  proper 
"  Thingvalla,"  a  Dingwall,  or  Thingwall,  a  place 
of  Parliament  of  free  Danes ;  and  villages  and 
fields   still  wear   their  ancient   Norwegian  names. 

^  The  Danelagh,  the  northern  and  eastern  side  of  England,  in 
which  Danish  law  prevailed. 


102  WHITBY   ABBEY 

The  local  dialect  is  to  this  day  full  of  Northern 
idioms. 

We,  however,  have  to  look  at  this  Scandinavian 
period,  at  first  pagan,  then  slowly  becoming 
Christian,  as  a  time  in  which  the  older  Christian 
world  was  hidden  under  the  ruins  of  the  fallen 
civilisation.  And  we  must  first  sketch  in  as  few 
brief  lines  as  may  be  what  can  be  learnt  as  to  the 
earlier  history  of  the  place. 

Streoneshalh,^  as  it  was  then  called,  appears  to 
have  contained  a  Christian  community  even  before 
the  days  of  the  first  abbey.  For,  as  Dr  Atkinson 
points  out,  after  the  battle  of  Heathfield,  while  the 
head  of  King  Edwin  was  carried  to  York,  his  body 
was  carried  to  Streoneshalh.  This  battle  took 
place  in  G33 ;  so  that  there  must  have  been  some 

^  The  name  Streoneshalh,  which  is  said  to  have  preceded 
even  the  foundation  of  the  first  religious  house,  and  to  be  an 
English,  or  Anglo-Saxon  word,  is  very  hard  of  explanation.  It 
is  in  two  parts — Streones,  a  genitive  of  Strdona  and  hau<jh.  In 
other  words,  it  is  the  Hawjh  of  Streona.  The  best  authorities 
venture  on  no  positive  statement.  They  think  it  most  probable 
that  Streona  is  a  proper  name — name  of  some  lost  chief  The 
name  comes  from  the  A.-S.  Sfreon,  which  is  either  bodily  strength, 
strain,  or  vigour,  and  then,  more  usually,  treasure,  riches,  and 
HaugJi,  which  is  a  low-lying  meadow.    Bede  (H.E.  iii.  c.  xxv.)  says 


THE   EARLY   HISTORY  103 

church  and  a  Christian  settlement  here  some 
twenty-five  years  before  the  first  foundation  of  the 
abbey.  Long  before  this,  indeed,  the  early 
missionaries  of  the  Gospel  had  penetrated  to  the 
ultimate  ends  of  the  earth,  and  had  made  settle- 
ment in  Ireland.  About  the  year  450,  Patrick,  a 
Romano-Briton  of  the  larger  island,  had  established 
communities  on  the  Irish  coast ;  and  on  each  easy 
point  of  access,  during  the  century  following, 
bodies  of  this  kind  were  planted.  It  is  usual  to 
speak  of  these  communities  as  "  monasteries," 
which  is  perhaps  unfortunate,  for  it  at  once  couples 
them  on  to  the  Latin  form  of  monastic  life,  and 
obscures  their  true  history.  They  were  but 
communities,  held  together  by  the  faith  of  Christ, 
finding  defence  and  protection  against  the  pagan 

tlie  ineaiiiug  of  Streoneshalli  is  "sinus  fari,"  so  that  he  accepts, 
in  "sinns,"  the  haugh  meaning  a  bay  or  lowland;  but  "fari" 
or  "  Phari "  does  not  suit  Streones.  "  Bay  of  the  beacon  "  it  may 
be ;  but  it  throws  no  light.  It  is  curious  that  this  ancient 
name  was  entirely  swept  away  in  the  days  of  the  Danish 
desolation ;  and  the  rough-and-ready  seamen,  finding  there  an 
abbey,  full  of  many  frocked  people,  dubbed  it  the  "  Prcstebi,"  the 
town  of  priests  :  this  name,  in  turn,  did  not  hold ;  when  in  the 
post-Norman  days  stone  buildings  began  to  rise  here,  the  north- 
countrymen  called  it  "The  White  Town,"  Whitby. 


104  WHITBY   ABBEY 

world — communities  consisting  of  men,  their  wives 
and  children ;  the  bishops  and  priests  also  had  their 
families  within  the  enclosure.      And  these  settle- 
ments were  not  merely  places  for  protection  of  an 
early  Christian  civilisation  ;  they  were  emphatically 
places  of  education  in  the  message  of  God  contained 
in  the  Bible.     As  Neander  rightly  calls  them,  they 
were  "  Pflanzschulen  ftir  Lehrer  des  Volkes,"  tran- 
quil nursery-grounds  for  the  cultivation  of  those 
who  would  be  the  teachers  of  the  people.     Through 
these   early  mission-stations   Ireland   came   to   be 
called  the  "  Insula  Sanctorum,"  that  is,  the  island 
full  of  those  holy  ones  who  gave  themselves   to 
study  the  Scriptures,  who  then  took  the  Bible  in 
hand,  to  preach  out  of  it  the  knowledge  of  God's 
revelation  of  love  to  man.     And  so  it  came  about 
that,  in  the  twihght  of  these   dark  centuries,  in 
which  the  old   light  of  the  civilisation   of  pagan 
Rome  had  gone  out,  and   the  new  dawn  of  the 
Gospel  shone  but  feebly;  in  the  days  when,  far 
oiF  in   the   East,   religion   groping  for  light  was 
becoming  tinged  by  Egyptian  or  Assyrian  faiths ; 
here  in  the  "Utmost  Thule,"  these  simple  com- 
munities stuck  to  the  sacred  books,  and  from  the 


EARLY   CHRISTIAN   CIVILISATION      105 

undefiled  source  of  faith  drew  the  revelation  of  a 
higher  and  purer  world,  and  lived  under  a  gospel 
of  brotherhood,  and  of  high  if  simple  ideals.  With 
these  they  converted  pagans  to  the  Gospel  in  a 
simple  form.  As  yet  Latin  civilisation  had  not 
crossed  the  path  of  these  new  influences  on  the 
Irish  and  Scottish  shores ;  the  natural  force  of 
earlier  beliefs,  usages,  superstitions,  alone  touched 
those  who  proclaimed  the  new  message.  For 
these  Celtic  communities  had  not  passed  through 
Roman  influences ;  of  Rome  fallen,  yet  still 
eternal,  they  heeded  not ;  neither  the  old  empire, 
nor  that  Latin  Christianity  which  had  absorbed  so 
much  of  the  older  Roman  life  and  tliought,  swayed 
their  simple  minds.  And  this  directness  of  relation 
with  the  earlier  spread  of  the  Gospel  made  the 
Irish  communities  cliaracteristic  and  original,  so 
far  as  they  were  reflections  of  the  true  originals  of 
the  faith.  We  may  see  the  influences  of  earlier 
faiths,  as  we  study  the  relation  of  the  ancient 
clan -system  of  the  Celtic  life,  in  the  brotherly 
love  and  communion  of  the  Celtic  Christian 
community. 

Of  the  history  of  these  early  settlements  we 


106  WHITBY   ABBEY 

have  hardly  a  trace.  Just  after  the  middle  of  the 
sixth  century  the  Christianised  Picts  of  Scotland 
certainly  gave  up  to  St  Columba  and  his  followers 
the  island  of  Hi  (or  Hy),  that  is,  the  famous 
island  of  lona,  as  it  afterwards  came  to  be  called. 
Thither  they  came,  starting  from  the  Irish  coast, 
and  made  a  new  community  in  this  western 
solitude ;  it  was  an  island  central,  safe,  and  suitable 
for  men  bent  on  their  ancient  simplicity  in  life  and 
faith.  The  ruins  of  their  primitive  home  stand 
still  on  lona  as  a  historic  monument,  token  of  a 
form  of  Christianity  which  has  unhappily  passed 
away.  As  we  contemplate  it,  we  feel  that  we  are 
at  the  daybreak  of  a  new  age  of  history.  We  look 
back  on  a  gloomy  past,  mirrored  in  the  sad  wail  of 
Gildas,  with  his  broken  spirit  and  his  shocking 
Latin,  crooning  his  dirge  over  the  Celtic  world  of 
his  day ;  and  we  look  forward  also  to  the  rise  of 
the  light  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  world,  in  the  pages 
of  that  first  prophet  of  ours,  Bede,  who  was  also 
brought  up  on  the  Bible  in  Jarrow,  and  was  a 
teacher  of  the  Word,  and  became  the  true  father 
of  English  Church  history. 

This  community  of  lona  was  happily  far  from 


THE   CHRISTIANS   FROM   lONA  107 

content  with  a  daily  routine,  cooped  up  in  the 
narrow  and  rocky  island ;  the  more  eager  spirits 
were  ever  for  a  move.  With  their  boats,  all  was 
before  them :  they  bravely  launched  forth  to 
carry  light  to  a  whole  world  full  of  hostile  spirits, 
and  to  men  all  filled,  as  they  believed,  with  evil 
devils.  All  round  the  coast  of  Scotland  they 
passed,  sailing  or  rowing,  till  one  day  they 
discerned  off  the  northernmost  shores  of  North- 
umberland a  group  of  little  islands  in  the 
troubled  sea :  and  thought  well  to  come  to  land 
on  the  first  of  these.  It  was  a  long  narrow  island, 
near  enough  to  the  mainland  for  intercourse, 
yet  far  enough  off  for  safety  and  independence ; 
large  enough,  also,  to  provide  sustenance  for 
their  simple  needs.  Hither,  then,  to  Lindisfarne — 
which  came  after  a  while  to  be  called  in  their 
honour  the  "  Holy  Island  " — came  St  Aidan,  the 
apostle  of  Northumbria ;  and  here  he  settled  down 
with  a  small  community  of  Celtic  disciples  and 
followers  in  the  year  635.  In  the  next  century 
Bede  describes,  as  an  eye-witness  might,  their 
establishments  on  the  island.  We  may  well  listen 
to  his  voice ;  though  he,  at  this  rather  later  time, 


108  WHITBY   ABBEY 

was  full  of  the  Latin  element  in  religion,  his 
description  of  the  earliest  community  is  that  of 
a  friendly  spectator : 

"And  when  Aidan  the  Bishop  came  to  King 
Oswald,  that  prince  gave  him  an  episcopal  seat  in 
the  island  of  Lindisfarne.  Thanks  to  the  rising 
and  falling  tides,  twice  a  day  Lindisfarne  is  an 
island,  and  twice  a  day  a  peninsula.  .  .  .  Day 
after  day  more  and  more  of  the  Scots  [that  is,  of 
the  Irish]  came  over  into  Oswald's  kingdom, 
preaching  the  Word  of  God  with  great  devotion, 
and  baptizing  the  converted.  Churches  sprang 
up  in  many  places ;  the  people  thronged  with  joy 
to  hear  the  Word  ;  royal  gifts  founded  monasteries  ; 
Anglian  children  under  Scottish  preceptors  were 
taught  the  greater  studies,  and  how  to  observe  the 
'  regular '  life."  ^ 

The  "Life  of  St  Cuthbert"  also  tells  us  that 
Lindisfarne,  though  a  little  island,  was  the  seat  of 
a  Bishop,  of  an  Abbot,  and  of  a  body  of  monks. 
Here  all,  including  the  Bishop,  followed  the 
community  rule  of  the  far  west,  and  were,  so  far 
forth,  all  subject  to  the  authority  of  the  Abbot. 
In  this  way  Lindisfarne  did  but  copy  the  usage 
of  the  mother- settlement  of  lona. 

1  Bede,  H.E.  iii.  3. 


AT   LINDISFARNE  109 

Then,  as  time  went  on,  and  the  natural  desire 
of  change  began  to  make  itself  felt,  and  as  the 
wish  to  see  a  larger  world  grew  into  shape, 
and  restlessness  quickened  missionary  zeal,  they 
presently  could  sit  still  no  longer,  but  took  ship 
again  and  felt  their  way  down  the  coast.  They 
no  doubt  kept  their  eyes  open  for  a  spot  where 
they  might  land,  and,  helped  by  the  geographical 
features  of  the  place,  might  entrench  themselves 
against  the  hostile  and  pagan  Anglians  of  the 
neighbourhood.  They  had  then  but  little  to  fear 
from  the  sea-approach ;  the  Danish  age  had  not 
begun ;  there  could  be  no  panic  from  the  seaboard. 
So  they  crept  down  the  coast ;  and  when  they 
came  to  the  high  land,  whei-e  the  lovely  Cleveland 
hills  run  out  into  the  sea  with  bold  cliffs  and  rocks, 
bearing  hidden  promise  of  much  future  wealth 
and  prosperity,  they  nuist  have  felt  tliat  the 
moment  for  decision  as  to  their  new  home  was 
drawing  nigh.  One  can  easily  imagine  them 
scanning  the  shore-line,  noting  where  the  rich 
valleys  run  away  inland,  with  lovely  trees  and 
bright  streams,  making  fresh  green  paradises  amid 
the   moors.       Here   there   were   but    few   natives 


110  WHITBY   ABBEY 

to  be  dreaded :  the  moors  support  little  life ;  and 
at  the  mouth  of  the  pretty  river  Esk  was  a 
convenient  landing-place,  on  which  there  was 
already  a  small  Christian  community  to  welcome 
them.  Here  they  might  make  their  settlement 
on  an  open  sea,  which  as  yet  was  nothing  but  an 
advantage  for  them  :  ("  the  Kelts  fear  not  the  fury 
of  the  waves,"  as  iElian  says  of  them)^;  and  as 
there  was  a  high  promontory  defended  on  the  one 
side  by  the  river,  on  another  side  by  the  sweep 
of  the  coast  and  cliffs,  the  place  would  be  easily 
defensible,  lending  itself  plainly  for  a  good  site  of 
a   colony. 

The  story  of  their  settlement  lacks  all  those 
portents  and  miracles  of  guidance  which  one  finds 
in  the  monastic  chronicles  of  the  foundations  of 
later  Houses ;  of  these  stories  the  monks  were  so 
proud  that  they  never  failed  to  embroider  the 
smallest  incidents  and  enlarge  them  into  a 
miraculous  leading:  the  choice  of  Whitby  has 
nothing  in  it  but  a  common-sense  judgment,  using 
for  decision  just  such   materials   as   circumstance 

^  ^lian,   Var.    Hist.   xii.    23,  also  given   in  the  Eiidemian 
Ethics,  iii.  1,  23,  which  go  under  the  name  of  Aristotle. 


THE   WHITBY   SETTLEMENTS  111 

provided,  and  entering  on  it  in  full  faith  that  God 
would  bless  the  new  home.  The  adventurers 
saw  the  two  high  hills,  one  to  the  north,  the 
other  to  the  south  of  the  little  river,  the  Esk — a 
name  given  to  many  streams  in  the  British  islands, 
and  a  chief  element  in  names  of  places  built  by 
the  side  of  running  waters.  Here  was  the  door- 
way into  a  green  and  pleasant  district ;  here  too 
would  be  safe  harbourage  and  easy  landing.  Here 
then  they  "applied  to  land,"  and  landing,  found 
the  place  good.  By  the  waterside  convenient 
room  for  storage  of  their  few  goods ;  on  the  hills 
breezy  levels,  strong  and  safe  for  their  churches 
and  cells ;  and,  we  may  well  imagine  it,  they 
found  a  hearty  welcome  from  the  inhabitants. 

They  also  learnt,  or  might  have  learnt,  in 
passing  down  the  coast,  that  a  few  miles  to  the 
north  of  Streoneshalh  there  was  akeady  an 
Anglian  settlement,  in  the  seaside  village  of 
Hereteu,  a  name  which  survives  in  the  modern 
Hartlepools.     Here  was  an  early  nunnery,^  from 

^  A  few  years  ago,  in  building-work,  foundations  had  to  be 
dug  out  at  Hartlepool ;  the  labourers  flung  up  four  or  five  small 
inscribed  stones,  which  proved  to  be  the  tombstones  of  Anglian 
nuns  of  the  Hereteu  comnmnity.     One  of  these  stones  is  in  the 


112  WHITBY  ABBEY 

which  they  either  sent  for,  or  brought  away  with 
them,  a  lady  of  royal  blood,  Hild  by  name,  who 
had  been  baptized  at  the  age  of  thirteen  by  St 
Paulinus  at  Y^ork,  in  the  year  627  :  her  they  placed 
at  the  head  of  the  new  settlement.  History  gives 
no  clue  to  tell  us  by  what  way  these  settlers  came 
to  decide  on  taking  a  stranger,  as  she  surely  must 
have  been,  to  be  their  Abbess,  Women  perhaps 
were  more  thought  of  in  those  days  than  now. 
She  was  then  about  forty-three  years  old,  a  strong 
character,  fit  to  hold  the  reins  prudently,  and  to 
rule  with  gentle  and  firm  hand  the  settlers, 
men  and  women  alike.  The  date  of  her  appoint- 
ment to  this  office  is  given  as  about  a.d.  656 
or  657.  Here  she  ruled  as  Abbess  for  twenty- 
four  years,  till  her  death  in  680 ;  her  bones  still 
rest  somewhere  in  St  Peter's  great  church  at 
Whitby. 

During  this  quarter  of  a  century  St  Hild 
ruled  over  all,  both  monks  and  nuns,  if  indeed 
they  ever  used    those    terms    in   her    time ;   her 

Cathedral  Library  of  Durham,  inscribed  with  an  interesting 
cross,  and  above  the  two  arms  the  A  and  fi,  with  the  name 
Berchtgyd  roughly  cut  beneath  the  arms  of  the  cross. 


THE   EARLY   COMMUxNITY  113 

rule  was  not  without  difficulties,  which  some- 
times were  even  dangerous  for  the  clan- 
community  under  her  care.  They  were  a  mixed 
community,  some  married,  some  not ;  there  are 
no  traces  of  vows,  no  sign  of  special  or  significant 
dress ;  they  all  lived  side  by  side,  simple  Christians, 
who  brought  their  religious  convictions  into  the 
daily  current  of  their  lives.  The  community 
must  have  been  of  considerable  size  ;  for  we  read 
that  there  were,  when  the  Benedictines  entered, 
"  full  forty  cells,  with  many  vacant  altars." 

Not  in  St  Hild's  time,  but  very  soon  after, 
we  find  that  interesting  Celtic  peculiarity  existing 
in  Streoneshalh,  the  phenomenon  of  a  Bishop 
with  his  followers  contentedly  settling  down,  and 
living  peaceably  under  the  command  and  control 
of  the  Abbess.  We  are  not  told  that  this  was 
so  in  St  Hild's  days.  She,  both  saint  and  hero,^ 
and  a  constitutional  queen  among  her  people, 
showed  true  nobleness  of  character,  and  rose 
supreme  above  all  the  anxieties  of  her  age,  steer- 
ing her  way  serenely  between   Latin   and    Celtic 

^  The   feiuinine  "  heroine  "  seems  to  me  a  bad  form.      The 
qualities  which  mark  our  heroes  are  common  to  both  sexes. 

II 


114  WHITBY   ABBEY 

usages,  bowing  to  the  inevitable,  and  sheltering 
as  best  she  could  those  whose  toughness  and 
obstinacy  did  not  let  them  tamely  submit  to 
the  Latin  order.  Round  her  have  gathered 
some  local  legends,  as  was  the  use  of  those  times. 
One  or  two  of  those  survive  to  our  days — the 
wild  geese  still,  as  they  come  with  heavy  flight 
to  land,  bow  themselves  down,  and  do  honour 
to  their  kindly  saint.  For  she  was  far  more 
their  friend  than  are  the  womenkind  of  to-day, 
with  their  heartless  bonnets  adorned  with  the 
beautiful  plumage  of  the  birds.  These  wild 
geese,  at  any  rate,  recognised  the  fraternity  of 
woman's  nature,  and  knew  that  here  was  a 
human  being  who  was  a  friend,  not  a  foe.  They 
were  as  dear  to  her  as  the  tame  St  Cuthbert's 
birds,  the  Eider  ducks  on  the  rocks  of  the  Fame 
Islands  and  of  Lindisfarne  itself,  were  to  our 
famous  Durham  saint.  Another  legend  there 
is  which  all  visitors  to  Whitby  ought  to  en- 
courage by  going  to  the  many  curiosity  shops. 
The  whole  district  was  infested  by  swarms  of 
venomous  snakes,  till  St  Hild,  with  a  touch  of 
St  Patrick's  Celtic  gift,  ridded  the  whole  country 


THE   HEADSHIP    OF  ST   HILD  115 

of  them ;  for  with  a  word  she  froze  them  all  to 
stone.  First,  their  heads  fell  off,  then  their  venom 
was  arrested,  then  tliey  curled  themselves  up 
into  pretty  circles ;  and  so  by  thousands  they 
lie  in  the  beds  of  lias  and  other  strata  of  the 
neighbourhood.  The  dealers  in  odds  and  ends 
get  them  out,  large  and  small ;  some  they  cut 
through  and  polish,  others  they  leave  complete ; 
they  may  be  seen  in  almost  every  shop.  Whitby 
has  identified  herself  with  them  in  a  prominent 
and  ceremonial  way,  for  the  coat-of-arms  of  the 
Abbey  are  three  Ammonites  on  a  shield.^  Those 
very  unimaginative  people,  the  geologists,  will 
not  see  the  playful  beauty  of  this  dream  of 
natural  liistory,  but  point  out  to  us  the  structure 
and  habits  of  the  great  class  of  Ammonites ; 
they  laugh  at  Hild's  "  frozen  serpents,"  and  tell 
us  with  truth  tliat  the  Great  Author  of  Nature 
in  constructing  these  beautiful  creatures  of  the 
deep     did     miracles     far     more    marvellous    and 

^  "  Mira  res  est  videre  serpentes  apucl  Strenesliale  in  orbe 
giratos,  et  in  dementia  coeli,  vel  (ut  monachi  ferunt)  precibus 
divse  Hilda}  in  lapides  concreti." — Dugdale's  Monasticon  Angl, 
vol.  i.  under  "  Whitby  Abbey." 


116  WHITBY   ABBEY 

beautiful   than  any  which,  "  ut  monachi   ferunt," 
have  been  imagined  by  the  idle  wit  of  man. 

Thus,  then,  we  see  that  St  Hild's  work  was 
that  of  the  head  of  a  Celtic  community,  which 
endeavoured,  on  this  vigorous  north-eastern  coast 
of  our  island,  to  fashion  the  growth  of  the 
Christian  religion  according  to  Celtic  ideas  and 
principles  of  life.  We  cannot  put  this  better  than 
has  been  done  by  Mr.  J.  W.  Willis  Bund  in 
his  most  interesting  work  on  the  Celtic  Church 
in  Wales.  Though  he  speaks  chiefly  of  the 
Welsh  growth  of  the  Christian  faith,  his  remarks 
answer  just  as  well  to  the  parallel  conditions 
of  religious  life  in  the  Irish  communities,  or  in 
those  on  the  Scottish  or  the  English  coasts. 

"  Let  us  not  obscure,"  he  begins  by  saying, 
"the  true  importance  of  the  struggle  between 
the  two  Churches,  which  was  carried  on  in  Wales 
for  centuries,  or  represent  this  struggle  as  only 
a  contest  on  some  perfectly  immaterial  ritualistic 
details,  such  as  the  words  of  ceremonial  at  baptism, 
or  the  shape  of  the  tonsure,  instead  of  what  it 
really  was — a  contest,  a  vital  contest,  between 
tribal  Christianity  as  represented  by  the  Celt, 
and  imperial  Christianity  as  represented  by  the 
Latin."     And   again  he  says :   "  The  real  contest 


THE   CELTIC   COMMUNITY  117 

was  not  on  such  minor  matters,  but  on  much 
greater  issues,  on  subjects  yet  unsettled — whether 
the  Church  is  supreme  over  the  State,  or  whether 
the  clergy  are  supreme  over  the  Church." 

In   other    words,   he   adds,   the  struggle   was 

between  tribal  independence  on  the  one  side,  and 

foreign  supremacy  on  the  other.  For  wherever 
Christianity  may  have   been 

"  introduced  among  the  Celts  in  Wales,  Scotland, 
or  Ireland,  it  had  one  characteristic  and  dis- 
tinguishing feature.  Its  development  was  local, 
without  any  external  aid,  and  without  the  exercise 
of  or  the  pressure   from  any  external  authority." 

And  again  he  says  : 

"  It  was  only  among  the  Celts  on  the  British 
Isles,  and  to  a  slight  extent  in  Brittany,  that 
from  the  force  of  local  circumstances  the  Latin 
Church  was  unable  to  prevent  the  development 
of  Christianity  in  accordance  with  tribal,  as 
opposed  to  imperial  ideas." 

This  is  a  fair  statement  of  the  problem,  so 
long  obscured  by  the  dominance  of  Roman 
ideas — ideas  which  subject  us  to  that  great 
supremacy  which  lias  long  swayed  the  fortunes 
of  the  western  world.  We  have  got  into  the 
way    of   never     looking    beyond     St     Augustine 


118  WHITBY  ABBEY 

and  his  Latin  supporters,  making  their  attempt 
on  the  paganism  as  well  as  on  the  Celtic 
Christianity  of  England ;  we  refuse  to  notice 
the  earlier  times  of  feudalism,  before  the  days 
of  the  bastard  system  brought  into  England 
by  William  I.  with  Hildebrand  to  bless  and 
back  him ;  we  study  our  Christianity  in  Roman 
spectacles,  and  so  miss  these  earlier  local  develop- 
ments of  the  faith  of  Christ.  Again,  we  are 
unwilling  to  acknowledge  that  the  evangelisation 
of  the  wild  peoples  always  carried  with  it  a 
large  adoption  and  assimilation  of  their  pagan 
usages,  customs,  superstitions ;  we  forget  that 
the  hunger  of  faith  feeds  greedily  on  that 
worship  of  the  Unknown  God,  whose  divinity 
is  recognised  in  very  different  phases  in  different 
races.  Much  of  our  ceremonial,  and  indeed 
much  of  our  theology,  is  deeply  tinged  with  these 
earlier  influences. 

And  so  it  was  that  the  settlement  in  the 
Cleveland  district  was  marked  by  many  Celtic 
characteristics,  so  making  a  distinct  variety  of 
Christian  life  in  those  early  days,  during  which 
the  Gospel  was  influencing  and  being  influenced 


THE   CELTIC   COMMUNITY  119 

by  the  old  pagan  ideas  and  customs :  hence 
sprang  many  healthy  differences  among  those 
who  held  the  faith  of  Christ  and  lived  in  the 
love  of  Him ;  and  of  these  forms  of  Christ- 
life,  it  is  unfortunate  that  the  Celtic  variety  got 
so  little  hold  on  England.  Mr  J.  R.  Green, 
historian  of  the  people  of  England,  rejoices, 
speaking  of  these  days,  that  we  were  saved  by 
submission  to  the  Latin  dominance  from  the 
"  confusions "  of  Irish  liveliness :  it  would  have 
been  better  for  us  had  we  had  in  us  more  of 
that  bright  and  imaginative  sense  of  religion 
which  marks  the  Celtic  race;  Anglo-Saxon 
"  common-sense "  stiffened  by  Roman  law  leaves 
much  to  be  desired. 

The  first  point  to  be  remembered  is  that  this 
early  Celtic  Christianity  was  unaffected  by  the 
glamour  of  the  Eternal  City,  that  it  had  its 
own  traditional  customs,  and  escaped  as  yet  the 
rule  of  the  hard  Roman  law,  and  was  not  dazzled 
by  the  splendour  of  a  Patriarch  with  imperial 
claims.  This  Celtic  development,  however, 
withered  away  very  early,  so  early  tliat  there 
must  always  be  great  uncertainty  as  to  its  details, 


120  WHITBY   ABBEY 

so  shadowy  that  the  monkish  historians,  who 
had  no  sympathy  for  it,  were  able  to  colour  it 
after  their  own  colour,  and  thereby  to  make 
it  very  hard  for  us  to  discern  the  truth.  To 
shut  your  eyes  to  unwelcome  truths  is  the  easiest 
way  of  confutmg  them ;  and  the  monasteries 
held  in  their  day  tlie  whole  "  power  of  the  press," 
and  shaped  the  story  after  their  system.  And 
thus  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  our  historical- 
religious  problems  has  been  lost  sight  of,  hidden 
out  of  sight  by  the  pen  of  the  conqueror. 

Nowhere  is  this  better  shown  than  in  the 
history  of  the  Streoneshalh  community.  That 
body  is  a  late  expression  of  the  Celtic  system 
of  polity  and  religion ;  it  lasted  for  about  two 
centuries  ;  it  was  the  mother  of  saints  and  learned 
men  and  women,  and  was  a  pattern  home  of 
simple  Christian  virtues ;  then,  swept  away  by  the 
pagan  Northman,  it  lay  all  desolate  for  another  two 
centuries,  till  the  Benedictine  Order  established 
on  the  spot  a  feudal  monastery,  the  fine  ruins  of 
which  still  dominate  the  headland.  That  later 
House  had  in  it  no  touch  of  the  older  Celtic 
body :    it    was     a    new    beginning     under     very 


CELTIC   CHRISTIANITY  121 

different  auspices,  the  study  of  which  is  fairly 
plain  and  easy,  compared  with  that  of  the  obscure 
institutions  and  usages  of  the  older  body. 

We  must  try  to  point  out  wherein  these 
Celtic  customs  and  laws  entered  into  the  incoming 
faith,  and  so  modified  the  growth  of  Christianity 
in  the  eighth  and  ninth  centuries.  We  may 
thus  win  a  ghmpse  of  the  early  colony  on  the 
east  hill  of  Whitby. 

Froude^  tells  us  that  Celtic  Christianity  was 
a  compound  of  the  ancient  Jewish  religion  with 
the  pagan  usages  of  tribal  relations.  Most  of 
our  nineteenth-century  notions  of  religion  spring 
from  Latin  sources,  with  august  forms  of  an 
imperial  faith  and  the  sharp  control  of  a  coherent 
system  of  law.  If  we  study  Celtic  institutions 
by  these,  we  shall  come  to  no  good. 

Many  Irish  writers,  Romanists  or  Protestants, 
have  worked  out  the  conditions  of  the  Irish 
Celtic  Church,  "  describing  as  it  was  in  fact, 
not  as  controversialists  have  thought  it  ought 
to   be "  ;  ^  and   we   must   bear    in    mind  that   our 

^  Fronde,  "  Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects,"  Series  I.  p.  194. 
2  J.  W.  Willis  Bund,  "The  Celtic  Church  in  Wales,"  p.  4. 


122  WHITBY   ABBEY 

Yorkshire  settlement,  though  originally  derived 
from  Britain,  passed  first  through  Ireland,  then 
through  lona  and  Lindisfarne,  before  it  finally 
took  shape  in  the  Streoneshalh  community.  By 
that  time  the  Celtic  mark  had  become  fainter; 
we  cannot  trace  at  Whitby  any  distinct  remains 
of  these  ancient  tribal  relations :  the  distinctions 
between  the  "  Tribe  of  the  Land  "  and  the  "  Tribe 
of  the  Saint "  are  no  longer  clear.  Still,  we  may 
try  to  summarise  these  Celtic  qualities  in  the 
new  community :  the  Latin  influences  very  early 
entered  in  there,  and  took  the  upper  hand ;  it 
was  only  about  twenty  years  after  the  first 
establishment  that  St  Hild  was  present  at  the 
Synod  of  Streoneshalh,  and  apparently  accepted 
the  conclusions  come  to  by  King  Oswiu  and 
the  foreign-speaking  priests  and  prelates  there 
assembled. 

As  we  have  said,  the  Celtic  form  of  Christianity 
was  coloured  by  the  determination  to  work  in 
the  clan  system.  This  showed  itself  in  the 
form  of  those  quasi-monastic  settlements  into 
which  the  Celts  invariably  threw  their  religious 
communities.      Not    hke    modern    efforts,   which 


THE   CLAN-SYSTEM  123 

chiefly  spring  from  strong  individual  convictions, 
and  in  which  the  heroic  career  of  some  young 
apostle,  fervent  in  the  faith,  leads  the  way,  the 
Celts  clung  all  together,  and  acted  as  a  social 
body :  each  move  created  a  fresh  hive  in  some 
sheltered  corner,  wherever  the  will  and  advice 
of  some  leader,  or  the  stress  of  circumstances, 
directed  their  course,  and  pointed  out  the  place 
for  a  new  settlement. 

One  is  hardly  willing  to  admit  the  use  of  the 
essentially  Latin  term  (though  Greek  in  origin) 
a  "  monastic  establishment,"  in  describing  these 
little  settlements.^  For  they  presented  an 
entirely  diiferent  set  of  qualities  ;  at  first  they 
were     complete     communities.    Christian    bodies, 

^  Unless  indeed  we  take  the  liberty  of  deriving  the  phrase 
from  fJiovi],  a  place  of  settlement  and  repose,  instead  of  [j.6vos,  the 
cell  of  the  anchorite.  In  fact  the  terms  "  monastery "  and 
"monachal  vows"  belong  to  a  very  different  world;  they 
connote  a  very  different  state  of  things ;  they  indicate  the 
progress  from  St  Benedict  of  Nursia  to  communities  of  men 
alone,  or  of  women  alone,  under  strict  vows  and  regulations,  and 
depending  on  the  head  of  the  Latin  Churches.  These,  as  has 
been  often  said,  were  the  "  Pope's  champions  " ;  and  at  a  later 
time  were  so  many  fastnesses  for  that  great  foreign  power  in  all 
the  lands  of  the  west. 


124  WHITBY   ABBEY 

in  which  all  the  faithful  dwelt  together,  as  a 
Church-clan,  with  wives  and  families  included. 
The  priests  and  the  bishops  formed  no  exception. 
One  knows  that  after  a  while  all  this  was 
changed,  and  a  separation  of  the  sexes  took 
place ;  still  at  the  outset  it  was  the  other  way. 
Indeed  one  seems  to  trace  a  similar  condition 
of  things  in  the  history  of  the  conversion  to 
Christianity  of  the  ancient  villages  of  Southern 
India — ^there  no  man  would  dare  to  make  a  move 
till  the  headman  of  the  village  was  convinced ; 
he  then  led  the  way,  came  to  the  Christian 
evangelist,  carrying  in  his  hand  the  little  rude 
figure  of  his  god,  who  was  probably  his  own 
ancestor  of  three  or  four  generations  before,  and 
then  and  there  presented  the  tiny  image  to  the 
missionary,  and  pulled  down  the  hut  or  chapel 
which  had  been  the  old  village  place  of  worship ; 
then  all  the  inhabitants,  men  and  women  and 
children,  came  to  be  adopted  into  the  new  faith, 
and  so  to  make  a  fresh  start  as  a  Christian- Indian 
clan.  In  that  case  the  Englishman  became  the 
head  of  the  Church-clan :  the  native  headman 
continued  still  to  be   the  head  of  the  tribal-clan, 


THE   CELTIC   BISHOP  125 

who  ruled  the  village  in  all  non-religious  matters, 
as  before,  in  accordance  with  rule  and  custom. 
The  EngHsh  missionary  was  like  the  Latin  Church, 
no  doubt :  he  could  not  help  interfering  by  advice 
and  example  sometimes  more  or  less  helpful, 
sometimes  mischievous.  Thus  these  simple  com- 
munities ran  the  course  of  change,  whether  in 
Indian  villages  of  to-day  or  in  these  Celtic  bodies 
of  twelve  centuries  ago. 

The  conversion,  then,  and  establishment  of 
the  community  as  a  whole,  comes  first.  The 
second  characteristic  may  be  sought  in  the  rela- 
tion of  this  community  to  property.  At  first 
there  seem  to  have  been  no  territorial  rights  or 
jurisdiction;  it  is,  at  any  rate,  certain  that  a 
Celtic  bishop  had  no  diocese,  nor  was  he  in  any 
sense  a  territorial  chief.  The  striking  difference 
between  these  two  types  of  bishop,  the  Celtic 
and  the  Latin,  will  be  shown  a  little  later. 

It  is  also  clear  that  the  community  owned, 
under  clan  conditions,  the  land  around ;  and 
carried  on  tillage  thereof  for  the  general  advan- 
tage. The  clearest  element  in  these  combinations 
is,  first,  that  they  were  banded  together  for  mutual 


126  WHITBY   ABBEY 

protection ;  and  next,  that  they  aimed  at  promot- 
ing Bibheal  knowledge  and  study  among  their 
company,  for  its  own  sake  and  with  a  view  to 
future  proclamation  of  the  Gospel ;  and  thirdly 
(may  we  not  add),  they  infused  the  spirit  of  the 
Gospel  into  all  their  home  life,  and  tried  to  make 
the  family,  not  the  man,  their  unit  of  Christian 
goodness. 

They  had  their  own  traditional  codes  of  law, 
which,  committed  to  writing,  have  happily  come 
down  to  us.  Indeed,  we  have  no  better  authority 
for  what  we  learn  about  the  Celtic  civilisation 
than  that  of  the  Brehon  and  other  codes,  in  which 
the  tribal  system  was  maintained.  There  we  see 
that  the  whole  institution  is  on  the  other  side  of 
Feudalism ;  the  whole  sheaf  of  notions  included 
under  Feudalism  must  be  kept  out  of  our  study  of 
Celtic  usages.^  It  would  be  too  much,  were  we  to 
draw  out  the  special  points  of  this  ancient  Celtic 
law,    though    it    seems    certain    that    St    Hild's 

^  It  is  a  pity  that  Canon  Atkinson  in  his  learned  work  on 
Whitby  uses  so  misleading  a  term  as  a  "  Manor,"  when  speak- 
ing of  St  Hild's  position  as  an  Abbess,— "Memorials  of  Old 
Whitby,"  p.  55. 


BUILT   UP   ON   CELTIC   LAW  127 

community  was  built  up  on  it.  We  do  not  even 
know  how  far  strict  Celtic  clan-rules  were  enforced 
in  Streoneshalli,  before  they  were  broken  into  by 
the  so-called  "  Synod  of  Whitby "  in  663  or  664. 
We  do  not  even  know  on  what  principles  the  lady 
Hild  was  appointed  from  Hereteu  to  be  their  first 
head.  One  can  only  say  that  when  the  site  was 
chosen,  it  was  occupied  by  the  whole  community, 
and  was  made  as  strong  as  the  situation  and  their 
rudimentary  notions  of  defence  could  make  it. 
The  chronicler  who  tells  us  of  the  Ammonite 
miracle  speaks  in  the  same  breath  of  it  as  a  "  situs 
paene  inexpugnabilis  " — showing  that  tlie  natural 
strength  of  the  position  was  a  vital  element  in  the 
case.  Protected  as  it  was,  Streoneshalh  deserved 
the  description  of  being  "  all  but  inexpugnable." 
And  here  in  peace  they  set  themselves  to  build 
their  first  Church,  and  gathered  round  it  their 
simple  little  dwellings,  their  cells ;  I  take  it  they 
never  built  one  big  barrack  of  a  monastery,  but 
occupied  these  little  cells  witli  their  wives  and 
cliildren. 

In  tliis  quiet  little  home  came  the  first  struggle 
in  the  North  between  Celt  and  Latin.     Bede  gives 


128  WHITBY   ABBEY 

us  minute  details  of  the  Synod  held  at  the 
Streoneshalh  House.  Bede  was  entirely  on  the 
Latin  side,  and  had  small  sympathy  for  the  Celts  : 
his  account  of  it,  accordingly,  is  that  of  a  man  in 
whose  mind  the  dispute  was  settled  beforehand ; 
to  him  the  course  of  it  appears  a  serene  and 
unanswerable  argument  on  the  one  side,  and  a 
sulky  Celtic  obstinacy  on  the  other.  The  con- 
clusions reached  by  Oswiu,  selfish  as  they  were, 
seemed  to  him  inevitably  true.  It  must  be 
confessed  that  sturdy  Colman,  the  Bishop  of 
Lindisfarne,  who  stood  out  for  the  old  Celtic 
usages,  made  but  a  poor  fight  of  it.  The  argu- 
ment which  seemed  to  Oswiu  to  be  overwhelming 
has  been  used  ever  since  by  Roman  partisans 
without  a  shade  of  hesitation.  It  is  useless  to 
fight  this  matter  over  again :  the  weU-disposed  are 
as  easily  disposed  of  now  as  in  Oswiu's  day ;  Bede, 
at  any  rate,  understood  that  the  issue  lay  not  in 
th:  s  or  that  minor  usage,  but  in  the  vital  question 
of  independence,  as  against  the  claims  of  Rome. 
To  his  eyes  the  other  questions  were  but  small 
matters,  while  Colman's  dogged  obstinacy  was  a 
slight  on  the  authority  of  St  Peter  through  his 


THE   SYNOD   OF    WHITBY  129 

presumed   representative   and   successor.      By  the 

ancient  Celtic  Church,  on  the  other  hand,  it  was 

felt  to  be  a  race-struggle ;  and  these  customs, — as 

one  finds  it  always  to  be  when  the  weaker  race 

is  struggling  for  independence   against   the  more 

powerful  arms  of  the  stronger, — were  regarded  as 

so  many  symbols  of  liberty  and  of  free  existence. 

No  wonder    that   Bishop    Colman  withdrew  with 

stern,  sad  heart,  returning  to  those  more  distant 

parts  which  as  yet  the   long  arm   of  Rome   had 

not    reached.      Bede    does    not    make    it    quite 

clear  what   position  St  Hild   held,  either   at  the 

Synod   itself,  or  afterwards,  with   respect   to   the 

decisions   come   to.      We   can    only   gather   from 

slight  indications  that,  while  she  acquiesced  in  the 

new  order   of  things,  she   was   left   alone   in  full 

command  of  the  community ;    and  also  that  her 

sympathies    were   with    stubborn    Colman,    rather 

than  with  the  papal  side  at  Oswiu's  Court.     Her 

heart  was  at  I>,indisfarne,  and  with  the   band  of 

men  under  Aidan  first,  and  then  under  Colman. 

The   monkish  writers    chide,   as  a   rare   defect   in 

her  character,  her  attachment  to   Celtic  doctrines 

and  uses.      They  also  remember  against   her  the 

I 


130  WHITBY   ABBEY 

resistance  with  which  she  met  their  man,  Wilfrid, 
the  champion  of  the  Latin  cause.  For,  in  a  word, 
she  was  a  statesman,  prvident  and  capable,  caught 
between  two  opposite  forces  of  opinion,  and 
obliged  to  balance.  We  may  surely  guess  that 
her  heart  was  with  the  more  independent  Celts, 
and  that,  like  many  a  later  Churchman,  she  had 
an  instinctive  love  of  freedom,  and  a  patriotism 
of  English  life,  which  refused  to  bow  beneath  a 
Roman  yoke. 

We  cannot  tell  whether  those  "  well-nigh  forty 
oratories,"  the  ruins  of  which  were  pointed  out  in 
the  eleventh  century  to  Reinfrith,  were  constructed 
during  her  rule  as  Abbess.  Nor  indeed  can  we 
say  for  certain  what  their  exact  use  and  position 
was.  It  might  well  be  that  these  houses,  after- 
wards styled  *'  oratories,"  with  their  dismantled 
altars,  were  after  all  only  the  Christian  households 
of  this  earliest  period,  in  which  the  Celts, 
following  still  the  most  ancient  and  holiest 
tradition,  still  "  brake  their  bread  from  house  to 
house,"  and  so  held  communion  in  the  meal  of 
Christian  love.  Anyhow,  we  must  guard  against 
letting  our  more  modern  ideas  as  to  the  nature  of 


A  CELTIC   MONASTERY  131 

a  monastery  mislead  us  as  to  St  Hild's  primitive 
community.  As  Canon  Atkinson  says  well,  it 
was 

"a  group  of  persons  who,  originally  solitary, 
had,  through  mutual  association,  come  to  band 
themselves  together  into  a  regular  community. 
There  would  be  among  them  clerical  members. 
.  .  .  The  idea  of  a  religious  life  which  excluded 
the  priestly  order  would  indeed  have  been  a 
strange  one  in  those  days ;  but  it  would  have 
been  stranger  still  to  think  of  a  community  of 
that  nature — embracing  religious  women  as  well 
as  religious  men — as  mainly  clerical,  or  as 
containing  more  of  the  priestly  order  than  were 
necessary  for  the  spiritual  advantage  and  welfare 
of  the  community  at  large."  ^ 

That  these  "  cots,"  or  "  oratories,"  were  common 
in  Celtic  religious  houses  is  made  probable  by 
one  or  two  passages  in  Bede's  Ecclesiastical 
History.  Speaking  of  Coldingham,-  in  Berwick- 
shire, near  the  coast,  he  mentions  the  many  "  casas 
vel  domuncula?"  of  it,  which  "ad  orandum  vel 
legendum    factcC    erant,"    for  the   benefit   of    the 

1  Canon  Atkinson,  "  Memorials  of  Whitby,"  p.  249. 

2  Coldingham,  a  few  miles  north  of  Berwick,  was  a  cell  after- 
wards of  the  Cathedral  House  of  Durham. 


132  WHITBY   ABBEY 

inmates ;  similarly  he  says  that  at  lona  and 
elsewhere  "within  the  circuit  of  the  walls  was  a 
close  round  which  were  the  '  hospitia '  or  lodgings 
of  the  community." 

Before  we  leave  St  Hild,  we  must  say  a  word 
as  to  the  intellectual  activity  of  her  days.  For 
her  work  was  clearly  that  of  a  luminous,  many- 
sided  woman :  pure,  simple,  and  strong  she  was ; 
to  her  falls  the  glory  of  having  first  kindled  the 
never-dying  flame  of  English  verse.  It  was  under 
her  rule  that  the  simple  neatherd,  or  farm  labourer, 
or  whatever  he  was,  "  that  Welshman  "  Casdmon,^ 
suddenly  broke  out  into  sacred  song.  He  had 
been  a  quiet,  shy  member  of  the  young 
community,  and  had  perhaps  seemed,  with  his 
unusual  ways  and  dreamy  looks,  to  be  a  youth 
of  no  great  promise ;  then,  to  the  amazement  of 
all,  he  found  himself  possessed  of  the  great  gift 
of  poesy,  through  visions  of  the  night.  The 
simple  teaching  of  the  community  in  Bible  read- 

1  "A  few  days  after  I  met  Mr  York  Powell  (the  Regius 
Professor  of  History  at  Oxford,  and  one  of  our  chief  authorities 
on  early  literatures),  who,  in  answer  to  my  question,  '  What  do 
you  make  of  Ceedmon  ? '  replied  immediately  with  the  words, 
'A  Welshman.'"— Canon  Atkinson,  " Memorials,"  p.  33. 


CiEDMON'S  LITERARY  WORK  133 

ings  and  the  peep  thereby  given  him  of  a  far  world 
beyond,  with  wonders  unexplored,  had  touched 
his  heart  and  brain,  and  kindled  in  him  the 
divine  gift  of  song.  Thus  the  poet,  the  "  maker," 
the  "  scop,''  or  shaper  of  the  higher  speech  of  man, 
who  fashioned  the  English  tongue  to  immortal 
thoughts,  appeared  more  than  twelve  hundred  years 
ago  in  Whitby.  His  was  a  noble  task,  to  wed 
the  mysteries  of  the  Bible  story  to  the  language 
of  the  people ;  and  so  to  give  to  our  ancestors  an 
entirely  new  reading  of  the  divine  message.  In 
Casdmon  we  note  the  parentage  of  our  present 
splendid  inheritance  of  English  religious  poetry ; 
here  begins  the  work,  carried  on  by  many  a  beloved 
singer,  of  every  strain  of  character  and  thought. 
Of  Milton  or  of  John  Bunyan,  whose  exquisite 
prose-poem  should  always  be  reckoned  among  the 
company  of  the  bards,  of  Herbert,  of  John  Keble, 
of  the  household  names  of  English  hymnology, 
Csedmon  with  his  song  of  the  Bible  story  is  the 
worthy  forerunner;  he  is  the  brightest  jewel  in 
the  crown  of  Whitby's  history.  It  is  very  well 
that  at  last  we  have  awakened  to  the  importance 
and  meaning  of  Ca?dmon's  gift,  and  have  set  up  in 


134  WHITBY   ABBEY 

Whitby  Churchyard,  overlooking  and  blessing  the 
beautiful  scene,  that  tall  Anglian  cross,  embroidered 
with  ancient  interlacing  ornament,  such  as  the 
early  English  loved,  and  bearing,  in  the  niches  of 
it,  effigies  of  the  sv^^eet  singers  of  old,  into  w^hose 
company  C^edmon  entered  when  he  received  his 
gift  of  inspiration. 

St  Hild's  community  was  also  famous  in  its 
day  as  a  trainer  of  those  who  were  called  to 
spread  the  truths  of  the  Gospel:  it  trained 
young  men  in  the  Gospel  mysteries.  Out  from 
Streoneshalh  came  Bosa,  Bishop,  first  of  Deira, 
then  of  York ;  then  there  was  the  famous  St  John 
of  Beverley ;  the  three  first  Bishops  of  the  See  of 
York  all  came  from  Whitby;  St  Hedda  also, 
afterwards  Bisliop  of  Winchester,  was  brought  up 
there.  The  famed  St  Ninian  has  left  his  name  to 
a  little  chapel  at  the  foot  of  the  bridge  over  the 
Esk,  on  the  west  side ;  but  we  can  trace  no  other 
connection  between  the  Apostle  to  the  Picts  ^  and 

1  Bede,  H.E.  iii.  4.  The  "  Dictionary  of  National  Biography," 
s.v.  Ninian,  does  not  indicate  that  he  had  an5^thing  to  do  with 
Whitby.  Dr  Fowler  (Adamnan,  1894)  finds  no  sign  of  any 
connection  with  Yorkshire.     "  The  whole  subject  of  Ninian  and 


ABBESS   MLFLMD  135 

Streoneshalh :  at  all  events,  he  belongs  to  the  days 
before  St  Hild's  house  was  built. 

After  St  Hild's  death  in  680,  the  community 
again  accepted  a  woman  as  its  head.  Some  time 
before,  St  Hild  had  taken  charge  of  a  daughter 
of  King  Oswiu,  ^Elflffid,  a  young  maiden,  who 
dwelt  among  them,  and  was  educated  with  the 
rest.  She,  now  about  twenty-six  years  of  age, 
had  by  her  royal  relationships  and  personal 
quaUties  greatly  commended  herself  to  the  little 
Christian  world  in  which  she  moved.  So  that, 
Avhen  a  second  Abbess  was  needed,  she  was  at 
once  chosen  for  the  vacant  throne  ;  and  apparently 
(for  we  have  no  sure  historical  knowledge  of 
her  rule)  governed  the  community  peaceably 
and  wisely  from  a.d.  080  to  713.  To  them,  after 
she  had  been  for  some  time  at  the  head  of  the 
House,  there  arrived  from  the  North  a  fugitive 
band  of  men  led  by  Bishop  Trumwine,  who 
had  been  dislodged  from  Abercorn  by  the  inroads 

his  work  is  one  that  re(iuires  most  careful  investigation,  far 
more  than  it  has  yet  received.  It  would,  if  worked  oat,  throw 
a  flood  of  light  on  the  early  Christianity  of  these  islands." — 
J.  W.  Willis  Bund,  "Celtic  Church,"  p.  153. 


136  WHITBY  ABBEY 

of  Picts  and  Scots  and  other  northern  pagans. 
He  claimed  shelter  and  protection  from  the 
Abbess  of  Streoneshalh,  and  was  welcomed  in 
a  true  spirit  of  Christian  brotherhood  by  the 
community ;  for  the  Bishop's  company  brought 
a  breath  from  the  outer  world,  and  indeed  a 
considerable  accession  of  strength  to  the  House. 
So  he  settled  in  at  once,  and  with  his  followers  was 
accepted  as  an  integral  part  of  the  Streoneshalh 
community.  It  may  be  that  Abbess  iElflsed 
welcomed  the  arrival  of  a  Bishop,  as  the  Celtic 
Houses  in  Ireland  had  apparently  always  had 
one  or  more  Bishops  attached  to  them ;  and 
without  a  Bishop  the  House  was  shorn  of  much 
of  its  dignity.  There  was  no  question  as  to 
which  of  the  two,  the  Bishop  or  the  Abbess, 
should  be  the  head  of  the  House.  ^Ifleed  was 
not  going  to  abdicate  her  authority ;  no  one 
dreamt  of  the  refugee  being  anything  except  a 
subject  under  her  authority.  And  so  the  Bishop 
contentedly  took  a  subordinate  position,  in  exactly 
the  same  place  that  we  find  St  Bridget's  Bishop 
at  Kildare  occupying  as  a  matter  of  course  ;  for  the 
royal  lady  was  true  head  of  the  whole  body,  and 


POSITION   OF  A   CELTIC   BISHOP        137 

Trumwine  obeyed  her  voice  in  all  things  bearing 
on  the  well-being  of  Streoneshalh.  Of  course 
she  did  not  invade  his  special  duties ;  nor  did 
he  interfere  with  her  headship.  These  northern 
houses  kept  alive  that  wholesome  diversity  which 
always  marks  a  vigorous  natural  growth.  As 
historians  have  remarked,  if  "  Augustine's  mission 
had  been  successful,  a  dead  uniformity  would 
have  spread  over  the  country " ;  much  of  our 
refreshing  distinctions,  still  enjoying  a  precarious 
life  in  diiFerent  parts  of  England,  would  have 
been  obliterated  long  ago.  The  lloman  custom 
would  have  been  as  merciless  towards  them  as 
the  modern  schoolmaster  seems  inclined  to  be 
to-day  towards  provincial  peculiarities.  Thus  then 
the  permanence  of  the  Celtic  spirit  in  the  North 
of  England  was  a  boon,  the  force  of  which  long 
survived  in  these  early  monasteries. 

This  humble  position  thus  taken  up  by  the 
fugitive  Bishop  gives  us  an  opportunity  for  saying 
something  about  another  peculiarity  of  these 
Celtic  communities ;  one  whicli  makes,  perhaps, 
the  most  marked  difference  between  a  Celtic  and 
a  Latin  House.     This  subordination  of  the  Bishop 


i38  WHITBY   ABBEY 

under  the  head  of  the  clan,  even  when  that  head 
was  a  woman,  was  not  pecuHar  to  Streoneshalh. 
We  have  akeady  mentioned  the  exact  parallel 
to  it  in  St  Bridget's  House  at  Kildare,  where 
a  Bishop,  monks  or  priests,  and  nuns,  were  under 
the  control  of  the  Abbess.  The  Irish  Houses, 
as  is  well  known,  had  Bishops  attached  to  them. 
At  Holy  Island  we  hear  that  even  the  Bishop 
"  must  keep  the  monastic  rule."  For  a  Celtic 
Bishop  appears  in  these  early  times  to  have 
been  a  kind  of  adjunct  to  the  saintly  character 
of  each  House,  the  chief  man  among  the  clergy, 
entrusted  with  the  proper  functions  of  the 
episcopal  order,  but  in  no  way  allowed  to  interfere 
with  the  authority  of  the  head  of  the  clan.  His  it 
was  to  ordain,  to  consecrate  Bishops,  to  teach 
things  sacred  or  secular,  to  ground  the  people  in 
the  faith  of  Christ,  to  be  a  chief  pastor  to  the 
flock ;  but  a  ruler  of  the  clan — never.  The  Abbot 
or  Abbess  was  the  recognised  father  or  mother  of 
the  tribe,  which  in  the  outset  was  always  regarded 
as  a  group  of  families  connected  together  by 
blood-relation.  And  indeed  no  Celtic  Bishop 
seems     to     have     made     any     high-reaching     or 


CELTIC    BISHOPS  139 

Cyprianic  claim  of  power :  he  was  content  to 
be  a  respected  member  of  the  clan  ;  he  followed 
Christ's  rule  that  "  whosoever  will  be  chief  among 
you  let  him  be  your  servant " ;  he  held  no 
territorial  rights  or  rank  :  there  seems  to  be  no 
evidence  that  he  even  fulfilled  those  duties  to 
which  St  Paul  alludes  in  sketching  his  ideal  of 
a  Bishop :  for  he  was  not  the  overseer  of  the 
affairs  of  the  community,  nor  their  treasurer. 
His  it  was  to  walk  humbly  and  prudently  as  a 
saint  of  God,  as  an  example  to  the  whole 
community.  There  is  a  very  great  interest 
in  these  traces  of  a  Bishop  so  very  unlike 
the  Latin  Bishops  of  our  days.  Among  other 
things,  the  non-territorial  position  of  a  Bishop 
made  a  great  overflow  of  Bishops  possible. 
In  St  Patrick's  life  there  were  350  Bishops, 
which,  for  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  period, 
is  a  marvel.  The  titles  of  Saint  and  Bishop 
appear  to  have  been  almost  convertible  in  Ireland. 
Mr  Willis  Bund  also  points  out  that  if  a  Bishop 
in  one  of  these  early  commimities  was  superseded 
for  misconduct,  and  had  come  under  the  Abbot's 
justice,  the    Lector   of  that   community   was    to 


140  WHITBY   ABBEY 

step  in  and  take  his  place,  that  is,  in  social  and 
non-episcopal  duties.  Doubtless  the  Lector 
was  chosen  because  he  was  also  a  teacher  and 
reader  of  Scripture.  We  are  also  told  of 
St  Bridget  that  she  saw  that  it  was  desirable 
that  Kildare  should  have  a  man  to  lead  in 
religious  duties ;  and  therefore  she  set  eyes  on 
one  Condlasd,  a  holy  man  in  the  neighbourhood, 
and  came  to  terms  with  him  ;  he  came  and  became 
the  Bishop  in  her  community,  helping  her  to 
rule.  She  never  apparently  ceded  one  scrap  of 
her  authority  to  him,  and  seems  to  have  kept 
him  well  in  order;  the  legend  runs  that  when 
he  presumed  to  have  an  opinion  of  his  own, 
and  went  forth  for  a  visit  to  Rome  in  direct 
opposition  to  her  wishes,  he  was  punished  by 
being  attacked  and  torn  to  pieces  by  dogs.^ 

And  tlie  few  historic  traces  of  Celtic  Bishops 
which  are  left  to  us  point  the  same  way.  Bede, 
with  his  Latin  sympathies,  says  that  "the  Island 
had  always  as  its  ruler  a  Priest  as  Abbot,  under 
whose  rule  both  the  'province'  (the  diocese)  and 
the  Bishops  themselves — it  was  an  unusual  order 

'  J.  W.  Willis  Build,  "  Celtic  Church  in  Wales,"  pp,  230,  231. 


CELTIC    BISHOPS  141 

of  things — ought  to  be  subject."^  Again,  in  a 
Charter  of  Honau  near  Strasburg  we  find  that 
the  Abbot  Beatus  signed  first,  then  follow  seven 
bishops  or  priests  of  eight  churches,  all  tributary 
to  the  monastery.^  This  number  seven  may  here 
be  a  chance  coincidence ;  in  the  Celtic  com- 
munities we  know  that  groups  of  seven  bishops 
were  not  uncommon.  These  groups  could  not 
have  been  made  to  fit  in  with  any  diocesan 
arrangements. 

One  may  safely  say  that  these  ancient  officials 
of  Christian  communities  came  much  nearer  to  the 
Apostolic  form  of  usage  than  did  the  Latinised 
Bishops,  who  represented  in  fact  rather  the  feudal 
than  the  religious  arrangements  of  dioceses.  It 
is  refreshing  and  bracing  to  come  in  sight  of  these 
Bishops,  who  had  such  close  resemblances  to  the 
earliest  Overseers  of  the  infant  Church.  We  are 
accustomed  to  one  special  mediteval  type,  and 
fail  to  realise  any  other.     Yet  these  others  exist, 

^  Bede,  H.E.  iii.  c.  4.  "Habere  solet  ipsa  insula  rectorem 
semper  Abbatem  presbyterum,  cujiis  juri  et  omnis  provincia  et 
ipsi  etiam  ejjiacojd  ordine  inusitato  debeant  esse  subjecti." 

2  Quoted  by  J.  Willis  Bund,  "Celtic  Church  in  Wales," 
p.  220. 


142  WHITBY   ABBEY 

or  have  existed ;  and  it  would  be  better  to 
recognise  the  varieties :  the  Greek,  the  Oriental, 
the  Coptic,  the  Celtic,  the  Anglican,  the  Roman, 
and  many  more,  and  compare  them  all  with  those 
who  led  the  missionary  churches  of  the  first  and 
second  centuries.  Well  for  us  if  our  churches 
were  always  a  Christ-clan,  of  which  the  Lord  is 
the  true  Head,  and  under  Him  all  officers  of 
whatever  duties  and  rank  do  their  faithful  work. 
It  is  only  when  we  bow  before  this  true  Head 
of  the  Church,  that  we  learn  how  these  divers 
hierarchies  fall  into  position,  as  members  of  the 
"  new  creation  "  under  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

The  very  early  form  of  Christian  life  which 
we  have  now  described  did  not  long  remain  un- 
changed. It  was  certainly  never  touched  by  those 
imperial  rules  of  order,  which  were  emphasised  by 
the  Normans,  blessed  by  the  Papacy,  and  then 
worked  themselves  into  the  modern  world  for 
good  and  evil,  as  we  live  in  that  world  to-day : 
the  Irish  and  Anglo-Saxon  Churches  had  no  terri- 
torial system  of  their  own.  In  other  respects 
these  early  communities  developed  themselves 
as     circumstances     pressed.      At     first    we     find 


GROWTH   OF  LATER   MONASTICISM    143 

a  Christian  brotherhood,  within  stout  walls,  in 
which  the  lay  and  clerical  elements  laboured  in 
unity  together,  to  sweeten  the  toil  of  life,  and 
make  their  homes  happy  for  their  own  good  and  for 
that  of  the  community.  After  a  time  the  stricter 
notion  of  a  monastery  came  in  ;  and,  as  the  ancient 
clan-life  grew  weaker,  two  chief  thoughts  led : 
first,  the  idea  of  self-dedication,  and  of  a  special 
holiness,  which  called  for  separation  from  family 
life,  till  the  happy  usages  of  home  were  by  degrees 
forbidden  or  forgotten,  and  the  Houses  grew  to 
be  barracks  on  the  one  hand  for  men,  on  the 
other  for  women.  And  next  came  the  thought 
of  learning,  and  the  monasteries  kept  alive  some 
mental  energy  and  thirst  for  knowledge.  Then, 
thirdly,  instead  of  the  simple  missionaries  of  the 
first  period,  comes  another  de^'elopment,  that  of 
men  thirsting  for  holiness  and  the  selfish  piety 
of  seclusion,  under  which  men  entered  on  the 
life  of  anchorites,  and  ranged  themselves  along- 
side of  the  hermits  in  Egyptian  cells,  or  those  of 
the  Greek  rock-solitudes,  the  religion  of  the 
"  Lauras "  of  old.  These  were  also  followed  by 
the  manning  of  the  greater  churches  with  groups 


144  WHITBY   ABBEY 

of  canons,  Churchmen  who,  often  with  their  wives 
and  families,  tried  to  combine  the  territorial 
system  with  their  religious  duties ;  men  who 
showed  so  much  neglect  that  they  made  the 
way  for  the  incoming  of  the  Benedictine  monks, 
and  the  general  subjection  of  monastic  Church-life 
to  the  well-known  rule  of  that  order. 

Long  before  this  the  Celtic  communities  had 
disappeared.  The  Danes  had  destroyed  that  of 
Streoneshalh :  attracted  by  the  obvious  "  port  of 
entry,"  and  lured  by  hopes  of  wealth  within  the 
convent  walls,  they  landed  there  in  867.  The 
Abbey  fell,  and  the  strong  pagans  swept  away 
the  simple  civilisation  of  the  Celtic  and  Anglian 
settlers.  What  advances  that  faith  had  brought, 
what  nobler  ideas,  what  beauties  of  art,  all  these 
things  perished  at  once.  As  one  walks  amid 
the  ruins  of  the  later  Abbey,  one  feels  that  the 
old  world  must  have  been  utterly  destroyed  by 
these  masterful  men.  Almost  the  only  trace  of 
their  skill  and  artistic  taste  which  appears  now 
above  ground  is  a  fragment  of  the  stem  of  a 
churchyard  cross  with  interesting  carved  work 
of  the  eighth  century.     This  the  ancient  House 


~1 


.3 


^ 
^ 
.^ 


CELT   AND  ANGLICAN  145 

had  raised  near  their  Abbey  Church,  the  sign  and 
proclamation  of  their  faith  in  the  Gospel ;  it 
remains  as,  it  may  be,  the  only  tangible  relic  of 
that  older  world,  a  slight  connection  for  Whitby 
of  this  nineteenth  century  with  the  mother-house 
in  lona. 

The  place,  so  destroyed  by  pagan  Norsemen, 
lay  uncared  for,  with  ruined  cells,  and  church 
unroofed  and  desecrate,  for  over  two  hundred 
years,  from  867  to  1080.  The  Celtic  community 
had  been  entirely  wiped  away ;  and  during  Viking 
times  no  one  had  heart  to  build  anything  attractive 
where  it  could  be  seen  from  the  cruising  ships. 
There  must  be  a  strong  hand  to  defend  the  coasts 
before  peace  and  prosperity  again  could  settle 
down  on  them.  The  very  traditions  of  tliat  older 
world  died  out ;  so  that  Whitby,  more  than  any 
other  place,  provides  us  with  an  example  of  the 
differences  between  the  earlier  and  the  modern 
manner  of  Ufe  in  community.  Tlie  days  of  the 
period  during  which  AMiitby  went  by  the  name 
of  Prestebi  passed  over  silently.  That  Danish 
settlement  did  absolutely  nothing  for  the  Church 
history  of  the  time.     The  town  by  the  river  grew 

K 


146  WHITBY   ABBEY 

under  their  occupation  ;  in  Domesday  we  read  that 
it  was  comparatively  wealthy  at  the  close  of  this 
period;  after  the  usual  way  of  the  Scandinavian 
plunderer,  he  had  become  a  settler  where  he  had 
formerly  made  a  ruin,  and  had  infused  into  his  new 
home  a  healthy,  vigorous  hfe.  This  Scandinavian 
strength  brought  in  the  end  a  fresh  woe  on  the 
place :  for  it  was  in  Cleveland  that  Wilham  the 
Conqueror  met  with  almost  the  last  serious 
resistance.  This  he  crushed  with  his  accustomed 
sternness  and  severity ;  and  the  horrible  revenge 
he  took,  and  the  miserable  destruction  wrought 
among  these  brave  folk,  was  the  seed-corn  of  the 
new  Abbey  of  Whitby.  For  among  William's 
men-at-arms  there  was  one  into  whose  spirit  this 
cruelty  brought  a  great  revulsion  of  feeling. 
Regnfrith  (or  Reinfrid)  had  been  one  of  the 
Norman  officers  engaged  in  bringing  down  the 
stiff  spirit  of  these  Scandinavian  settlers.  Soon 
after  1070  he  had  retired  to  the  Benedictine  House 
of  Evesham,  to  quiet  his  conscience  as  best  he 
could.  Happily  his  was  an  active  spirit ;  so  that 
when  he  became  familiar  with  the  Benedictine 
Rule,  then  just  at  its  prime,  he  began  to  yearn 


THE   BENEDICTINE   HOUSE  14.7 

to  extend  the  peaceful  blessings  of  it  into  those 
northern  regions  far  away  where  he  had  worked 
such  woe  a  few  years  before.  Two  of  the  Evesham 
monks,  kindled  by  his  earnestness,  went  with  him  ; 
first  they  travelled  flu-ther  north,  till  they  came  to 
Jarrow ;  and  after  that,  somewhere  about  1078, 
they  came  south  again  to  ^Vhitby.  The  mesne- 
lord  of  the  district,  AVilliam  of  Percy,  looked 
favourably  on  his  ambition,  and  gave  him  leave  to 
take  the  site  and  use  the  ruined  buildings.  Out  ot 
these  he  built  a  first  rough  home,  and  gathered  a 
small  company  of  monks  about  him.  They  were 
organised  into  a  convent  by  1080,  and  Reinfrid 
became  their  first  Prior.  T'lie  buildings  were 
mean,  the  revenues  small ;  still,  here  was  the 
nucleus,  and  round  an  earnest  and  pious  man, 
wealth  and  influence  were  sure  to  gather.  He 
was  supported  by  the  chief  laymen  of  the  district ; 
monks  came  in,  and  with  them  supplies  and 
means  ;  churches  and  carucates  of  land  were  given ; 
and  the  monastery  sprang  into  full  life.  Over  this 
Reinfrid  ruled  well  and  peacefully,  until  at  last  he 
came  to  his  death  as  he  should.  He  was  turning 
his  repentance  and  devotion  to  practical  uses,  and 


148  WHITBY   ABBEY 

was  helping  with  his  personal  energy  at  the  build- 
ing of  a  bridge  over  the  river  Derwent,  an  eager 
man  putting  his  own  hand  to  the  work,  when  he 
met  with  an  accident  which  brought  his  life  to  an 
end.  The  community  then  elected  Serlo  of  Percy, 
brother  of  the  founder  of  the  monastery,  as  their 
Prior ;  his  value  as  a  territorial  magnate  overbore 
the  just  claims  of  their  most  intelligent  and  capable 
monk,  Stephen,  who,  doubtless  hurt  by  this  act  of 
worldly  prudence,  withdrew  from  Whitby,  retiring 
to  York,  where  he  became  the  first  Abbot  of 
St  Mary's.  Certain  of  the  monks  clave  to  him, 
and  so  made  a  serious  secession ;  it  was  a  protest 
against  that  worship  of  wealth  and  rank  which  has 
often  marred  the  better  growth  of  the  English 
Church. 

Still,  the  monastery  prospered,  from  the 
practical  and  worldly  side.  William  of  Percy, 
the  founder,  gave  more  gifts,  kinsmen  and  friends 
increased  the  endowment,  till  they  could  show 
that  the  Priory  was  important  enough  to  be 
turned  into  an  Abbey.  About  the  year  1096 
the  protection  of  the  Percys  had  brought  its 
reward.      But    though    Serlo    had    largely    been 


THE   PRIORS   OF  THE   HOUSE  149 

the  cause  of  this  promotion,  for  some  reason 
unknown  he  was  not  allowed  to  be  the  first 
Abbot ;  this  preferment  was  granted  to  another 
of  the  family,  William,  nephew  of  the  founder. 
We  hear  of  Serlo  in  1114  in  a  charter  in  which 
he  is  mentioned  as  Prior  of  the  Cell  of  All  Saints 
in  the  Fishergate  at  York,  a  little  house  created 
as  a  cell  of  Whitby  Abbey/ 

There  must  have  been  an  early  Church 
for  this  Abbey.  Canon  Atkinson  holds  that 
before  the  now  remaining  ruins  "  there  had  been 
three,  and  even,  in  a  certain  sense,  four"  stone 
churches.  One  was  certainly  built  in  the  days 
of  William  Rufus,  under  guidance  of  a  certain 
Master  Godfrey.  JMore  than  once  the  Northerners 
ravaged  the  place  again,  and  left  it  desolate : 
yet  the  brethren  clung  to  the  site,  returning 
undismayed  to  live  in  the  scanty  buildings,  and 
occupying  themselves  with  the  erection  of  the 
Parish  Church,  which  still  stands  and  shows  their 
hand.  The  architecture  of  it  is  Early  Norman, 
probably  more  than  half  a  century  older  than 
the  earliest  parts  of  the  present  Abbey  ruins. 

I  Canon  Atkinson,  "  .Memorials  of  Old  Whitby,"  pp.  110,  111. 


150  WHITBY    ABBEY 

This   noble   ruin   of    an   abbey  church,  which 
still  seems  to  lord  it  over  the  North  Sea,  was  not 
begun  till  1220  or  thereabout;   the  main  portion 
of   it  was   completed   by   1260.      Then   followed 
a   pause  for   about   half  a   century,  till  early   in 
the  fourteenth   century  the   western   part   of  the 
nave   was   completed   in  the   beautiful    and    rich 
"  decorated "   manner,   which    had    by   that   time 
grown  out  of  the  simpler  "  Early  English  Style." 
It  is   no   part   of  my   plan   to   describe   the   fine 
architectural  features  of  the  Abbey ;  the  character- 
istics of  a  full-grown  Benedictine  House  are  very 
well    known,    and    Whitby   showed    no   features 
differing  from   all  the   other   well-known   Houses 
of   the    Order.      The   Benedictines    were,   as   we 
all  know,  a  "  Papal  Militia  "  :  they  regarded  the 
English     Church     from     the     Latin    or    Roman 
point  of  view  ;  they   did  not  identify  themselves 
with    the     natives ;     they    belonged     to     a     vast 
institution    in   many    lands    alike,   with    interests 
and     allegiance    entirely     distinct.       They     were 
admirably  organised   throughout ;   their   Obedien- 
tiaries    managed    the     large    concern,    kept    the 
accounts,   were   good   landlords.      These    Houses 


THE   BENEDICTINES  151 

were  a  company  or  college  of  country  gentlemen, 
territorial  and  feudal :  they  owned  many  churches, 
and  used  their  revenues  for  the  support  of  the 
House;  they  troubled  themselves  little  about  the 
evangelisation  of  the  people,  leaving  that  to  their 
vicars,  and  presently  with  some  indifference  saw 
this  active  side  of  religion  pass  over  to  the  friars  : 
they  kept  up  some  learning,  had  often  a  good 
library,  with  many  copies  of  books.  They  aimed 
at  freeing  themselves  from  the  burdens  of  their 
country,  for  they  were  no  national  patriots  ;  they 
appealed  always  from  king  or  bishop  to  the 
Papacy ;  that  is,  they  interposed  the  Pope  between 
themselves  and  the  Crown.  There  could  hardly 
have  been  any  contrast  more  striking  than  that 
between  the  monks  and  their  predecessors  at 
AVhitby.  The  first  convent  had  been  originally 
of  both  sexes  alike — the  second  of  men  alone  ;  the 
first  had  been  a  home  of  families,  the  other  had 
no  interest  in  such  things  ;  the  first  had  hardly 
been  a  possessor  of  lands,  beyond  what  they 
required  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  for 
their  support.  The  Benedictines  were  a  feudal 
landed    aristocracy;    the    Celtic    House    had    no 


152  WHITBY   ABBEY 

earthly  head  except  the  Abbot  or  Abbess ;  the 
Benedictine  was  the  servant  of  a  great  foreign 
potentate.  It  was  fi-om  this  subjection  to  Rome, 
more  than  from  lack  of  learning,  small  as  Erasmus 
shows  that  this  was,  or  from  neglect  of  duty,  or 
deadness  of  spiritual  life,  that  the  Benedictine 
Houses  fell  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

Whitby  Abbey  lies  in  a  lovely  land,  one, 
like  many  beautiful  places,  neither  fertile  nor 
rich.  From  the  land-side  it  was  hard  of  access ; 
and  the  Cleveland  hills  seemed  to  sever  the 
little  town  and  the  monastery  from  the  rest  of 
England.  When  attacks  from  the  sea  ended  there 
was  a  long  time  of  peace,  lasting  for  centuries ; 
all  things  went  on  placidly ;  no  name  of  note 
came  forth  from  the  Abbey  in  these  days. 
They  cherished  some  pet  beliefs.  We  hear  that 
there  was  in  the  Abbey  Church  a  stained-glass 
window  which  portrayed  the  Scots,  their  old  foes, 
as  being  "  even  in  the  days  of  William  the  Bastard 
a  set  of  cannibals  "  P 

In  such   a  district  as  this   the  ancient   course 

1  Dugdale's  Monasticon  Angl.,  vol.  i.,  "  Whitby  Abbey. "     "  Vel 
ad  Guilielmi  Nothi  tempora  anthropofagos  ! " 


THE    BEAUTIES   OF   WHITBY  153 

of  affairs  was  rarely  disturbed.  They  were  natur- 
ally much  offended  by  the  new  things  of  the 
fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries.  In  Cleveland 
the  "Pilgrimage  of  Grace"  in  1536  found  many 
supporters.  Even  to  our  day  the  district  shows 
a  delightful,  and  indeed  a  wholesome  conservatism, 
which  has  rendered  it  exceedingly  interesting. 

Visitors  ought  to  be  happy  in  this  ancient 
town.  In  antiquity,  in  picturesque  confusion,  in 
geological  variety  and  interest,  in  the  exquisite 
beauty  of  the  flora  of  this  land  of  moors  and 
wooded  dells ;  in  the  sweet  little  rivers,  the  in- 
land walks,  the  charming  beaches,  the  many  points 
of  interest  along  the  varied  coast,  we  have  enough 
to  make  Whitby  a  very  paradise  for  a  contented 
soul.  And  from  Whitby  have  come  out  the  first 
beginnings  of  many  things :  hence  we  have  the 
opening  strains  of  English  literature ;  and  from 
A'Vhitby  Pier,  last  century.  Captain  Cook  sailed 
forth  into  the  world  to  begin  that  mar\'ellous 
period  of  expansion  which  has  marked  our  nation 
for  many  years. 

These  many  and  very  varied  charms  of  Whitby 
will  not  only  fill  us  with  delightful  memories,  but 


154  WHITBY   ABBEY 

should  also  make  us  champions  of  the  ancient 
place,  determined  that  it  shall  not  be  ruined  by 
the  spoiler  of  to-day.  Our  Philistine  may  not 
be  so  openly  destructive  as  the  Norseman  in  his 
keel ;  yet  perhaps  he  is  more  ruinous  to  peace  and 
serenity  of  life  than  even  the  fierce  Viking  was. 
His  invasions  swell  year  by  year ;  he  tramples 
down  the  sweet  paths  of  life,  making  them  flat 
and  flowerless.  The  old  Viking,  after  all,  had  a 
great  constructive  force  in  him,  and  proved  to  be 
a  splendid  settler ;  the  modern  tripper  leaves  only 
desolation  and  dirty  paper  behind  him. 

One  is  thankful  to  come  to  a  lovely  spot  like 
this.  It  is  only  by  growth  of  culture  on  whole- 
some lines,  which  quickens  our  power  of  enjoy- 
ment, and  strengthens  our  reverence  for  God's 
works,  and  by  man's  earnest  endeavour  to  do  Him 
honour,  that  we  can  hope  to  save  these  beautiful 
corners  of  our  dear  English  world  from  the 
thoughtless  hand  of  ignorance. 


IV 
DURHAM  COLLEGE 

A   GLIMPSE    OF   MEDIEVAL   OXFORD 

It  is  flattering  to  our  North-country  pride  to  see 
how  important  a  part  the  Palatinate  Bishopric  of 
Durham  took  in  the  first  beginnings  of  higher 
education  in  England,  as  it  settled  into  its  earliest 
shape  at  Oxford.  The  origin  of  the  "  Northern 
Nation "  al  that  L^niversity  can  be  traced  home 
to  the  wealthy  Cathedral  Convent,  so  great  that, 
though  it  was  a  Priory,  it  was  always  called  "the 
Abbey."  It  was  the  leading  Benedictine  House 
of  the  North,  on  the  "  New  .lerusalem,"  the 
famous  hill  protected  by  the  one  true  Durham 
river,  the  AVear.  I  suppose  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that,  for  nearly  a  century  before  my  story  begins, 
Oxford  was  a  place  of  teaching;  but  Oxford  as 


156  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

yet  had  no  buildings,  nor   had  even  the  thought 
of  a  College  been  conceived. 

It  is  to  Durham  that  the  world  owes  this  step 
in  the  permanence  of  higher  education.  The  end 
was  noble  and  worthy,  though,  as  you  will  see, 
the  original  impulses  which  led  to  it  were  not 
very  dignified.  The  chief  personages  were  a 
humiliated  Baron  and  a  jealous  prior;  the  one 
desiring  to  buy  his  peace  with  the  powerful 
convent;  the  other,  to  get  rid  of  a  rival  who 
had  offended  him.  It  may  be  prudent,  in  describ- 
ing the  origin  of  Institutions,  "ad  Deos  referre 
auctores " ;  still,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  when  we 
look  into  the  past,  we  see  that  there  has  always 
been  plenty  of  human  nature  at  work,  and  that 
of  no  very  exalted  kind. 

Let  us  then  sketch  out  the  beginnings  of  the 
"  Northern  Nation "  at  Oxford.  A  strange  sight 
was  to  be  seen  in  1260,  at  the  gate  of  the 
Church  of  Durham ;  probably  at  that  northern 
entrance  on  which  even  then  the  strange  bronze 
head  was  on  the  wooden  door,  as  a  refuge  for 
hunted  ill-doers. 

John   of  Balliol,   a  great   lord — among    other 


JOHN   OF   BALLIOL  157 

places,  lord  of  Barnard  Castle — eager  to  strengthen 
himself  in  his  fortresses,  "  had  unjustly  vexed,"  as 
Matthew  Paris  tells  us,^  "  and  enormously  damni- 
fied the  Churches  of  Tynemouth  and  Durham." 
We  know  not  how,  but  so  it  was,  that  the 
Churchman  in  the  end  proved  stronger  than 
the  powerful  lay  lord.  This  may  have  been  due 
to  the  amazing  authority  exercised  by  the 
Palatine  Bishop  over  everything  between  Tyne 
and  Tees.  At  any  rate,  AA^alter  of  Kirkham, 
the  Bishop,  made  common  cause  with  his 
monks  of  Durham,  and  brought  this  haughty 
noble  to  his  knees.  And,  as  the  Chronicler  of 
Lanercost,  with  tantalising  neglect  of  details, 
tells  us, 

"as  pride  would  rather  be  confounded  than 
corrected,  this  man,  .John  of  Balliol,  hastened 
to  add  contempt  to  rashness.  Then  the  Bishop 
was  greatly  roused  up,  and  with  such  sagacity 
brought  his  rebellious  son  to  obedience  that 
in  the  end,  in  sight  of  all  the  people,  the 
haughty  noble  submitted  to  be  flogged  by  the 
hand  of  a  chief  dignitary  (probably  the  Prior) 
at  the  gate  of  the  Church  of  Durham,  and 
then  and  tliere   promised   that    he    would    create, 

^  Vol.  V.  p.  528,  Ed.  Luard. 


158  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

as  a  permanent  endowment,  a  sum   sufficient  to 
support  a  gi'oup  of  scholars  at  Oxford." 

It  was  from  this  energetic  action  of  Bishop 
Walter  that  Balliol  College  sprang,  destined  after- 
wards to  outstrip  the  smaU  foundation  which 
Durham  Monastery  was  soon  to  set  up  for  itself 
by  the  side  of  it. 

This  John  of  Balliol,  thus  flagellated  at 
Durham,  was  father  of  the  better  known  John 
Balliol,  whom  Edward  I.,  acting  as  arbitrator, 
afterwards  named  King  of  Scotland.  The  earlier 
John  must  have  had  something  of  both  the 
ambition  and  the  softness  which  we  can  trace  so 
clearly  in  his  son.  We  do  not  know  to  what 
extent  the  '*Antistes"  laid  it  on  his  shoulders — 
whether  he  was  duly  stripped  for  it,  nor  do  they 
tell  us  where  it  was  inflicted ;  we  must  be  content 
with  pointing  out  the  important  fact  that  this 
struggle,  and  the  consequent  flagellation,  did  set 
going  the  College  system  at  Oxford,  and  so  greatly 
advanced  the  stabihty  and  efficiency  of  the 
Oxonian  "  Studium  Generale,"  that  place  of 
general  or  liberal  education,  as  it  came  to  be 
styled  in  the  next  century. 


THE   NORTH   AND   OXFORD  159 

In  fact,  in  the  outset  Oxford  University  seems 
to  be  connected   in   every   way  with   our  North- 
country    world.      Not    only   did    Balliol    College 
spring    from    Durham,    but    at   a   slightly   earlier 
time   University  College  owed   its   origin   also  to 
Durham.     William  of  Durham,  a  man  of  note, 
who  had   studied  in  the  University  of  Paris,  and 
had  returned  to  our  northern  parts  to  be  Rector 
of  Wearmouth,   and   who   was   afterwards   Arch- 
bishop-Elect of  Rouen,   at  his  death  in  1249  left 
a  sum  of  310  marks  to  be  invested  for  the  support 
of  Masters  in  Arts  in  the  University  of  Oxford. 
This  money  presently  was  used  to  buy  the  build- 
ing occupied  by  these  Masters,  which  was  called 
•'  The  Great  Hall  of  the  University."     From  this 
beginning   sprang   University  College,  which   has 
always    claimed  a  still  earlier  and  a  royal  origin, 
though  in  fact  it  began  a  little  later  tlian  Balliol 
College.      The     years     run     closely     together : — 
Wilham    of    Durham    died    in    1249 ;     John    of 
Balliol's  whipping  took  place  in  1260;   Walter  of 
Merton's  scholars  were  set  going  in  1203,  though 
the  proper  date  of  Merton  College  is  1260 ;  and 
lastly,  Durham  College  followed  very  soon  after, 


160  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

beginning  in  1286.  And  so  it  came  about  that 
Oxford  from  the  beginning  was  divided  into  a 
northern  and  a  southern  nation ;  and  though  this 
distinction  died  out  after  a  time,  it  was  very  well 
marked  at  first.  The  "  Boreales  "  were  composed 
of  North  Englishmen  and  Scots,  with  a  Northern 
Proctor  as  their  representative  ;  the  "  Australes" 
were  the  Southern  English,  the  Irish,  Welsh,  and 
the  Men  of  the  Marches,  also  with  their  own 
Proctor.  At  the  outset  the  difference  was  very 
considerable,  the  Southerners  being  the  kinsfolk 
of  Walter  of  Merton,  who  held  property,  and  were 
landlords  corporate ;  the  Northerners,  in  the  case 
of  the  men  of  Balliol,  were  merely  pensioners, 
receiving  pay  from  endowments  not  their  own. 
Merton  was  not  monastic  in  origin ;  Balliol  was 
largely  such,  at  first.  The  Balliol  students  dwelt 
outside  the  walls  of  Oxford,  to  the  north ;  the 
Merton  lads  were  inside  the  city  walls,  on  the 
southern  side  of  the  town. 

Durham  College  was  not  long  in  following  the 
example  of  Balliol,  and  at  once  ranged  itself  up 
with  the  "  Northern  Nation."  If  Balliol  owes 
her  first   impulse   to   the   somewhat   discreditable 


OKIGIxN   OF   THE  COLLEGE  161 

penitence  of  John  of  Balliol,  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  the  first  origin  of  Durham  College  also  was 
not  much  to  the  honour  of  the  North.  We  have 
the  account  of  it  from  the  hand  of  the  ill-used 
Robert  of  Graystanes,  who  was  afterwards  so 
badly  treated  by  Edward   III. 

Graystanes  is  not  master  of  a  clear  style :  his 
Latin  is  very  mediteval.  Still  he  gives  a  striking 
account  of  the  origin  of  Durham  College,  marked 
probably  by  some  personal  feeling,  and  rather 
obscure  on  one  or  two  leading  points.  I  will 
give  it,  as  well  as  I  can,  in  a  kind  of  shortened 
translation : 

"  Hugh  of  Derlington  was  twice  Prior  of 
Durham.  In  the  interval  between  the  two  periods 
of  his  office,  while  he  had  withdrawn  into  his 
old  conditions  of  being  a  simple  monk,  Uichard 
of  Houghton,  at  that  time  Sub-1'rior  of  I3urliam, 
following  the  use  of  his  office,  went  down  to 
Finchale,  a  cell  of  Durham  Abbey,  to  hold  his 
visitation.  Hugh  of  Derlington  being  then  there, 
Richard  enquired  of  him,  '  To  whom  did  he 
make  confession  ? '  and  Hugh,  nettled  at  being 
treated  as  a  subordinate,  answered  sharply,  '  I 
know,  my  son,  my  duty,  and  can  take  care  of 
my  own  soul  just  as  well  as  you  can  of  yours.' 
Hence    sprang    up    a    most    unclu'istian     hatred 

L 


162  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

between  Hugh  and  Richard,  and  when,  a  short 
time  later,  Hugh  was  made  Prior  again,  lie  let 
poor  Richard  feel  what  a  mistake  he  had  made 
by  interfering  in  the  matter  of  his  duties. 
Richard,  says  good  Graystanes  the  chronicler, 
was  a  juvenis  gratiosus,  a  good-looking,  popular 
young  man,  and  Hugh  was  small  enough  to 
regard  him  as  a  rival ;  and  so  the  chronicler 
goes  on :  Hugh  appointed  Richard  of  Houghton 
Prior  of  Lytham  (to  get  him  out  of  the  way); 
and  when  he  was  doing  well  there  (quum  ipse 
ihi  i^rospere  se  haheret),  he  shifted  him  to  be 
'  Conventual  of  Coldingham '  out  of  mere  spite ; 
and  he  also  (probably  before  these  two  appoint- 
ments, while  Richard  was  at  home  at  Durham, 
and  acting  as  Magister  or  tutor  to  the  younger 
monks  in  the  '  primitive  sciences,'  i.e.,  in 
Grammar,  Logic  and  Philosophy)  made  arrange- 
ments to  send  the  younger  monks  to  study  at 
Oxford,  and  gave  them  good  endowments  there, 
in  order  that  the  influence  of  Richard  should 
be  lessened  and  the  ground  cut  away  from  under 
his  popularity  by  the  removal  of  his  best  pupils 
to  a  distance." 

This,  so  far  as  we  can  interpret  it,  is  the 
substance  of  Robert  of  Graystanes'  story.  It 
casts  an  unpleasant  light  on  the  condition  of 
things  within  a  great  monastery,  and  also  tells 
us  how  Durham   came  to  have   a   settlement   at 


THE   THIRTEENTH   CENTURY  163 

Oxford.  This  incident  may  easily  have  been  a 
mere  accident  in  the  general  movement  going 
on  at  the  time.  The  end  of  the  thirteenth 
centmy  was  a  time  of  awakened  life;  at  such 
times  men  turn  again  and  again  with  true 
instincts,  and  with  a  persistence  unshaken  by 
failure,  to  the  belief  that  education  alone  can 
raise  mankind  to  higher  things.  It  was  so  in  the 
days  of  the  Renaissance  and  the  Reformation ; 
it  is  notably  so  in  our  own  stirring  times ;  it  was 
equally  so  in  the  thirteenth  century,  in  which, 
after  the  Crusades,  men  seemed  to  wake  up  to 
better  aspirations,  till  they  began  to  feel  amid 
the  darkness  for  the  way  towards  knowledge. 
The  life  of  Roger  Bacon,  rightly  understood, 
gives  us  our  clue.  The  awakened  energies  of 
the  Franciscans  and  Dominicans  fill  this  time : 
laymen  and  Churchmen  alike  set  themselves  to 
the  work  of  education. 

Mr  Rashdall,  in  his  work  on  the  Universities 
in  the  INIiddle  Ages,  speaks  of  the  intervention 
of  the  monks  in  education  as  being  a  matter 
undertaken  "  only  very  tardily."  It  is  perhaps 
more   true   to   say   that   the  great  houses  moved 


164  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

more  slowly  than  their  freer  neighbours,  the 
friars,  the  Franciscans  and  Dominicans ;  and  also 
that  while  the  friars  sought  to  influence  the 
common  folk,  the  monks  cared  only  to  do  the 
best  they  could  for  their  own  brethren.  And  so 
while  the  Mendicants  settled  down  in  Oxford 
betimes  (Dominicans  in  1221  and  Franciscans  in 
1224),  and  at  once  took  a  prominent  part  in 
University  education,  the  Benedictines  on  their 
part  looked  round  for  convenient  places  in 
which  to  house  a  few  of  their  young  monks, 
and  gave  themselves  little  trouble  about  the 
general  advance  of  thought.  Only  some  forty 
to  fifty  years  lay  between  the  first  arrival  of 
the  Mendicants  and  the  beginnings  of  Gloucester 
Hall  and  Durham  College. 

The  University  certainly  did  not  spring  from 
the  monastic  schools.  Indeed,  it  may  also  be 
a  question  whether  the  intellectual  life  of  the 
monastery  at  home  was  the  better  for  the  use 
made  of  Oxford.  Instead  of  having  a  school  at 
home,  with  an  intelligent  monk  at  the  head  of 
it,  and  a  group  of  young  men  interested  in  the 
"  Primitive     Sciences,"     they    transported     these 


WHY   SENT  TO   OXFORD  165 

livelier  elements  to  Oxford,  whereby  they  left 
themselves,  so  far,  deprived  of  life.  Here  and 
there  a  young  monk  returning  to  his  cloister 
may  have  quickened  them  a  bit;  and  it  is 
interesting  to  know  that  many  of  the  Oxford 
students  were  afterwards  promoted  to  high  office 
in  Durham  "  Abbey." 

Here  one  might  enter  on  a  very  interesting 
question — Why  these  Northerners  sent  their 
young  men  to  Oxford  rather  than  to  any  other 
place  ?  It  is  a  question  which  admits  of  a  fair 
answer.  (1)  The  importance  in  very  early  times 
of  Oxford,  mentioned  in  pre-Roman  documents 
as  on  a  par  with  London ;  (2)  the  selection  of 
Oxford  as  a  centre  for  great  assemblies ;  (3)  the 
nearness  of  Dorchester,  an  ecclesiastical  centre, 
and  of  Bensington,  a  military  centre ;  (4)  the 
singular  safeness  of  the  place — with  I^ondon 
below  it,  on  the  Thames,  blocking  the  water- 
way against  the  Danes ;  a  town  standing,  as 
Oxford  does,  on  a  thin  tongue  of  healthy  gravel 
at  the  junction-point  of  two  rivers — rivers  run- 
ning through  clay  marshes,  and  often  impassable 
for     months ;     and     lastly     (5)     being     on     the 


166  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

border  stream  between  INIercia  and  Wessex,  and 
thereby  attainable  from  both  divisions  of  England. 
These  were  the  chief  points,  which  I  forbear  to 
draw  out — simply  remarking,  as  I  pass  by,  that 
it  is  clear  that  the  Durham  authorities  did  not 
for  some  time  look  on  Oxford  as  the  necessary 
place  for  their  men ;  they  had  also  a  cell  at 
Stamford ;  and  would  at  one  time  have  wel- 
comed Northampton  as  a  convenient  and 
excellent  place  for  their  students. 

Durham  College  was  in  fact  nothing  more 
than  a  cell  of  the  great  monastery  at  home.  For 
divers  reasons  the  larger  houses  usually  had 
such  annexes ;  and  St  Cuthbert's  headquarters 
had  no  less  than  eight  of  them.  These  were : 
Durham  College  at  Oxford ;  the  Priory  of 
Finchale ;  that  of  Holy  Island ;  Coldingham ; 
Jarrow,  so  glorious  through  the  great  name  of 
Bede ;  Wearmouth,  where  Bede  also  was ; 
Lytham ;  and  lastly,  St  liConard's  by  Stamford. 
These  cells  were  useful  to  the  mother- house  in 
various  ways ;  Durham  College  and  St  Leonard's 
were  helpful  for  education.  When  the  monastery 
woke  up  to  the   needs   of  teaching,  it  knew   no 


A   CELL   OF  THE   "ABBEY"  167 

better  way  of  meeting  the  case  than  by  such 
subsidiary  institutions. 

So  Hugh  of  Darhngton,  and  Richard  of 
Houghton,  priors  of  energy  and  sense,  saw  that 
if  the  monastic  system  was  to  retain  any  hold 
on  the  thought  of  the  age,  it  inust  not  shrink 
from  the  arena  of  intellectual  life.  It  speaks 
well  for  their  sagacity  that  they  saw  clearly 
that  a  college  system  of  some  definite  form 
was  wanted.  In  ftict  they  led  the  way  towards 
such  a  system,  which  has  lasted  ever  since,  with, 
on  the  whole,  notable  results  on  English  higher 
education. 

We  must,  then,  in  spite  of  all  the  evidence  as 
to  monastic  idleness  and  indifference,  give  them 
full  credit  for  this  effort.  It  may  be  true,  as 
our  Durham  Bishop,  the  famous  "  Philobiblon," 
Richard  (of  Aungerville)  of  Bury  (a.d.  1333-45), 
says  in  his  pungent  way,  that  the  monks  were 
"  more  intent  on  toasts  than  on  texts "  ;  still  we 
have  in  Durham  College  a  tribute  to  their  sense 
of  the  worth  of  learning,  and  an  effort,  perhaps 
far  more  strenuous  than  w^ould  be  attempted 
now,    to    provide    means    by    which    the    newer 


168  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

knowledge  should  reach  the  well-to-do  classes 
of  the  day,  and  so  countervail  to  some  extent 
the  dangers  of  wealthy  sloth  and  self-content. 

In    the   year   1279    a    chapter  general   of    the 
Benedictine   Order  imposed   a  tax   of  two   pence 
in  the  Mark  on  the  revenues  of  all  their  houses  in 
the  province  of  Canterbury  in  order  to  maintain  a 
Hall  in  Oxford  as  a  "  Studium  Generale,"  in  which 
their  monks  should   be  lodged.      This  may  have 
roused    the    Durham    community    to    act.     They 
made  their   first   purchase   of  land    at  Oxford  in 
1286,  when  Mabel,  Abbess   of  Godstow,  granted 
them   a   site  outside  the  city  walls  on  the  north 
side;   this,   with   two   other   plots   obtained   from 
the   Prior   and    Convent  of  St  Frideswide,  made 
up   a   piece   of  ground  of  from  five  to  six  acres, 
adjoining  the  site   on  which   Balliol   College   was 
soon   to   be  built.      It  is   an  interesting  example 
of  the    persistence    of  English    institutions,   that 
the  present    Trinity    College    at    Oxford,   which 
stands    on    the    site    of    Durham    College,    and 
incorporates  some  of  the  old   buildings,  still  pays 
yearly    to    Christ    Church    a    quit    rent    of  five 
shillings,    which    represents     certain    small    sums 


WHEN   ESTABLISHED  169 

due  from  the  old  Durham  College  to  the 
monasteries  of  Godstow  and  St  Frideswide  as 
rents  arising  out  of  these  transactions ; — and  this 
continues  though  the  three  original  institutions 
are  swept  away  and  are  inherited  by  Trinity 
and  Christ  Church,  standing  on  their  sites. 

When  Richard  of  Houghton  became  Prior 
of  Durham,  in  1290,  he  completed  this  purchase 
of  land,  and  began  building  on  it.  It  was,  no 
doubt,  a  plain  house,  standing  on  the  north  side 
of  the  town  ditch  (Candich),  to  the  east  of  the 
Balliol  site. 

These  two  bodies  had  much  in  common,  in 
their  origin  and  their  Northern  connections. 
Somewhat  later  than  the  time  we  are  now 
speaking  of,  Balliol,  receiving  a  new  constitution, 
had  (instead  of  a  regular  visitor)  a  Commission 
on  which  Durham  was  strongly  represented,  for, 
beside  the  A^ice-Chancellor  of  the  University, 
two  of  the  four  members  of  it  were  the  Bishop 
of  Durham  and  the  Prior  or  Warden  of  Durham 
College. 

Durham  College,  throughout  monastic,  soon 
reached    its    full    growtli,    and    made    no    further 


170  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

advances.  It  never,  like  Balliol,  grew  to  celebrity. 
It  was  always  small  and  poor  in  income.  Mr 
Rashdall  is  justified  by  the  facts  when  he  says 
severely  that 

"  only  very  tardily  were  they  (the  monks)  shamed 
by  the  intellectual  activity  and  consequent  fame 
and  influence  of  the  Mendicants  into  some- 
what feeble  efforts  to  rescue  their  orders  from 
the  reproach  of  entire  ignorance"  (vol.  ii.  p.  476); 
and  again  (vol.  ii.  p.  480)  he  says,  "  These 
monastic  colleges  possess  very  little  importance 
in  the  history  either  of  learning  or  of  education." 

For  they  proved  valueless  in  the  presence  of 
either  Philosophy  or  Theology.  They  aimed  only 
at  something  like  the  Church  training  of  to-day 
for  clergymen.  They  wanted  a  select  few  of 
their  younger  monks,  not  to  be  great  theo- 
logians, not  to  be  leaders  of  thought,  but  men 
instructed  sufficiently  to  pick  up  a  fair  general 
theological  knowledge,  and  to  continue  in  a  state 
in  which  they  were  "  as  little  interested  in  the 
controversies  of  the  age  as  in  the  practical  work 
of  the  Church" — all  which  things  were  still  left 
to  the  friars. 

At     first    the    Bishops   of    Durham    did    not 


BISHOP   RICHARD   OF   BURY  171 

interfere  with  the  Oxford  College :  but  before 
the  plan  of  sending  the  young  monks  to  Oxford 
was  fifty  years  old,  there  came  to  the  see  a  new 
kind  of  Bishop,  one  who  had  been  brought  up 
among  the  learned ;  had  been  tutor  to  the  boy 
who  was  afterwards  Edward  III.,  and  had  been 
rewarded  for  his  help  by  the  wealthy  Bishopric 
of  Durham,  snatched  by  royal  hands  from  the 
excellent  Robert  of  Graystanes,  whom  the  monks 
had  elected,  and  who  had  been  installed  and 
actually  consecrated  in  1333.  Richard  d'Aunger- 
ville,  of  Bury,  at  once  took  an  interest  in  the 
College  and  contemplated  a  permanent  endow- 
ment for  it ;  he  certainly  meant  to  leave  his 
fine  library  of  JNISS.  to  it.  It  seems  from  the 
catalogues  existing  that  his  wishes  never  found 
fulfilment ;  his  books  never  found  tlieir  way  to 
Oxford,  nor  did  his  endowment  take  place.  He 
persuaded  Edward  III.  to  promise  the  College  the 
valuable  rectory  of  Simondsburn,  to  be  given 
under  the  condition  that  the  College  should 
support  a  Prior  and  twelve  monks  of  Durham, 
so  about  doubling  their  number.  But  this  grant 
never   took   place,  and    Simondsburn,    by    strange 


172  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

twist  of  fortune,  came  at  last  to  be  among  the 
forfeited  possessions  of  Lord  Derwentwater,  and 
so  passed  into  the  hands  of  Greenwich  Hospital, 
to  which  it  still  belongs.  And  Bury's  Library — 
"  MSS.  more  than  all  the  Bishops  of  England 
had  then  in  their  keeping" — never  went  to 
Oxford.  We  have  full  lists  of  the  Durham 
College  books,  and  there  are  no  traces  of  Bishop 
Bury's  collection ;  indeed  (it  is  sad  to  say  it 
of  so  great  a  personage)  he  died  overwhelmed 
with  debt,  and  some  of  his  books  were  sold,  as 
valuable  assets,  to  St  Alban's  Abbey.  He  had 
stated  his  intentions  clearly  in  his  great  work,  the 
"  Philobiblon,"  chap,  xviii.  : 

"  Nos  autem  ab  olim  in  praecordiis  mentis 
nostrae  propositum  gessimus  radicatum,  quatenus 
opportunitate  temporibus  expectatis  divinitus 
aulam  quandam  in  reverenda  universitate 
Oxoniensi,  omnium  artium  liberalium  nutrice 
praecipua,  in  perpetuam  eleemosynam  fundare- 
mus  necessariisque  redditibus  dotaremus ;  quam 
numerosis  scholaribus  occupatam,  nostrorum 
librorum  jocalibus  ditaremus  ut  ipsi  hbri  et 
singuli  eorundem  communes  fierent,  quantum 
ad  usum  et  studium  non  solum  scholaribus  aulae 
dictae  sed  per  eos  omnibus  Universitatis  praedictae 
studentibus  in  aeternum." 


BURY'S  "PHILOBIBLON"  173 

And,   indeed,    Biiry's  fame  must   rest,  not  on 

what   he   did,    in    which    he   was    not    successful, 

but   on  the  hbrary  that   he  had,  and  on  his  love 

for   books    and    encouragement   of  learning,    also 

on  what  he  wrote  in  his    sarcastic  "  Philobiblon." 

He  entered  cheerfully  into  the  permanent  struggle 

between  monks  and  friars,  denouncing  the  tricks  by 

which  the   latter   attracted  adherents : — "  Uncinis 

pomorum,     ut     populus    fabulatur,     puerulos     ad 

religionem  attrahitis."  ^     And  did  he  not  also  hate 

women,  calling  them  "  two-legged  beasts  "  ?     This 

we  may  see  from  his  chap.  iv. : 

"  We  used  to  have  some  quiet  lockers  in  our 
inner  chamber,  but  alas !  in  these  wicked  days 
we  are  sent  out  into  exile  outside  the  gates. 
Our  places  are  taken  now  by  dogs  and  paupers, 
now  by  a  two-legged  beast,  sc,  a  woman,  wliose 
living  with  clerks  was  formerly  forbidden,  and 
of  whom  we  always  used  to  teach  our  pupils 
that  they  must  shun  them  more  than  asps  or 
basilisks.  And  therefore  this  beast  is  always 
envious  of  our  studies,  never  to  be  appeased  ; 
we  are  driven  into  some  corner  protected  only 
by  spiders'  webs ;  she  scolds  us  and  scowls  on 
us,  and  abuses  us  with  virulent  speeches,  and 
shows  us   to    be   unnecessary   and    idle  guests    in 

1 "  riiilobiblou,"  chap.  vi. 


174  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

the  household,  and  in  the  end  advises  that  we 
should  be  bartered  away  for  costly  bonnets,  for 
silk  and  satin,  for  cloth  twice  dipped,  for  garments, 
for  wool  and  linen." 

So   Bury   waxes  eloquent    on   the  wrongs   of 
MSS.,  like  holy  Job  sitting  in  the  dust. 

For  more  than  a   century  after  the  beginning 
of  Durham  College,  it  was  nothing  but  a  decent 
house,  a  "  mansus  proprius,  in  quo  degebant  octo 
monachi    Dunelmenses, — aut    semper     ad    minus 
quinque  vel  quatuor,"  under  a  Gustos,  a  Warden 
or  Prior,  set  over  them  by  the  Prior  of  Durham. 
And    even    this   decent    house,  with    its    chapel, 
and  book-room,  and  dining-hall,  was  not   secured 
to   them   without   a    struggle.     In    1316,   Gilbert 
Elwyk,  the  first  Prior  of  Durham  College  whose 
name   has   been   handed    down    to    us,   is    found 
appealing  to   Durham  for  advice  and  help  under 
difficult  circumstances.     The  Chancellor  of  Oxford 
and  his  suite,  it  appears,  were  living  in  Durham 
College   without  paying  any   rent.     When  asked 
for  rent  by  the  monks  (in  the  Chancellor's  absence) 
the   suite   refused,    packed   up    their    goods,    and 
migrated    elsewhere,    which    was    mean    enough. 


QUARRELS   WITH   THE   CHANCELLOR  175 

Gilbert  adds  that  the  Chancellor  on  his  return 
declared  that  the  monks  had  treated  him  badly, 
had  turned  him  out  of  house  and  home,  and  he 
claimed,  like  an  Irish  tenant,  full  reinstatement; 
and  this,  says  poor  Gilbert,  would  mean  the 
estabUshment  of  a  complete  free  right  of  residence 
without  any  payment,  and  this  the  Hall,  vexed 
by  damage  from  the  Scots,  whose  incursions  far 
away  in  the  North  had  cut  off  their  supplies, 
and  burdened  by  the  heavy  expenses  of  the 
principal  at  his  appointment,  could  not  endure. 
Gilbert  adds  that  all  men  feared  to  support  his 
claim  against  two  such  powerful  men  as  the 
head  of  the  University  and  the  Archbishop,  till 
one  graduate  in  Civil  Law,  INIaster  Simon  of 
Stanes,  was  found  wilhng  to  face  the  danger 
and  to  protect  the  Durham  JNIonastery.  And 
Gilbert  adds  a  hint  of  worse:  "This,"  he  says, 
"  is  the  matter  at  large,  but  there  are  many 
things  which  cannot  be  set  down  in  writing,  and 
so  I  have  sent  you  the  best  man  I  have,  who 
will  tell  you,  and  you  may  trust  him  for  the 
truth." 

How   the    difficulty  was    surmounted    we   do 


176  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

not  know.     In  later  days  we  find  the  Chancellor 
still  living  in  Durham  College.^ 

About  this  time  efforts  were  being  made  to 
quicken  monastic  indifference  by  organising  the 
Benedictine  members  of  the  University  ;  a  general 
statute  of  the  order  directed  that  every  monastery 
of  any  size  should  keep  a  master  to  teach  the 
monks  Grammar,  I^ogic  and  Philosophy.  This 
was  passed  in  1335  ;  it  clearly  pointed  towards  the 
University  connection,  for  it  aimed  at  fitting 
young  men  for  Oxford.  But  nothing  serious  was 
attempted  till  Hatfield's  time  (a.d.  1380);  he,  a 
great  prelate,  left  a  legacy  of  280  marks,  say 
£3000  ^ — a  large  sum  for  those  days — in  the  hands 
of  trustees,  one  of  whom  was  William  Walworth, 
the  famous  JNIayor  of  London  (this  dates  the 
bequest  as  having  been  made  in  1380),  for  the 
benefit  of  Durham  College.  Another  of  the 
trustees    was    Utred    Bolton,   a   very   interesting 

^  On  20th  March,  1448-49,  an  Assize  of  Victuals  was  held 
before  Gilbert  Kymer  the  Chancellor,  in  his  chamber  in 
Durham  College. 

^  We  may  reckon  this  280  marks  as  equal  in  our  day  to 
about  £3000  a  year;  though  these  calculations  are  very 
uncertain. 


ENDOWMENT   OF  THE   COLLEGE       177 

member  of  the  Durham  House.  This  bequest 
was  laid  out  presently  in  the  advowsons  of 
three  or  four  Uvings,  and  certain  land  in  Durham 
Bishopric. 

Bishop  Hatfield  also  framed  a  definite  con- 
stitution for  the  College.  There  should  be  eight 
student  monks,  "  to  give  their  attention  chiefly  to 
Philosophy  and  Theology "  ;  one  of  these  to  be 
Warden ;  and  with  them  eight  secular  students  in 
Grammar  and  Philosophy,  to  be  selected  by  the 
Prior  of  Durham  or  the  five  senior  monks  ;  of  these 
seculars  four  should  be  fi'om  Durham  County,  two 
from  Allertonshire,  two  from  Howdenshire ;  these 
were  practically  servitors,  older  lads  educated  free 
of  cost  and  doing  all  "  honesta  ministeria  "  for  the 
College.  They  could  continue  at  Oxford  for 
seven  years,  and  were  throughout  called  "  pueri  "  ; 
their  condition  was  completely  lay,  even  if  now 
and  then  one  of  them  was  permitted  to  take  the 
vows.  The  revenue  of  the  College  eventually 
stood  at  280  marks.  The  manner  of  selection  is 
described  for  us  in  the  "  Rites  of  Durham,"  chap, 
xlix.,  a  work  written  by  a  man  who  had  seen  the 
last  of  it  all  with  his  own  eyes. 

M 


178  DURHAM  COLLEGE 

"  There  was  alwayes  vi  novices,  which  went 
daly  to  schoule  within  the  House,  for  the  space  of 
vii  yere ;  and  one  of  the  oldest  Mounckes,  that 
was  lernede,  was  appoynted  to  be  there  tuter. 
The  sayd  novices  had  no  wages,  but  meite,  drinke, 
and  clothe,  for  that  space.  The  maister  or  tuteres 
office  was  to  se  that  they  lacked  nothing,  as 
cowles,  frocks,  stammyne,  beddinge,  bootes  and 
socks.  .  .  .  And  yf  the  maister  dyd  see  that  any 
of  theme  weare  apte  to  lernyng,  and  dyd  applie 
his  booke,  and  had  a  pregnant  wyt  withall,  then 
the  maister  dyd  lett  the  Prior  have  intellygence. 
Then,  streighteway  after,  he  was  sent  to  Oxford e 
to  schoole,  and  there  dyd  lerne  to  study 
Devinity."  ^ 

Thus  then  stood  the  humble  College,  head- 
quarters of  the  Northern  Benedictines,  who  used 
it  (as  the  York  monks  did  also)  as  a  well- organised 
lodging-house. 

There  it  stood,  a  solid  outpost  of  monasticism 
in  the  hostile  land  of  learning,  to  protect  the 
young  monks  against  secular  teaching,  and  to 
give  them  such  training  as  might  make  them 
better  fit  to  cope  with  the  rising  forces  of 
opinion,   or   with    such    new    institutions    as,   for 

1  MSS.  Roll.—"  Paid  to  four  Novices  going  to  Oxford  for 
carriage  6s.  8d.,  and  courtesy  6s.  8d." 


THE   CHAPEL   AND   LIBRARY  179 

example,     the      definitely     secular      College     of 
Merton. 

They  got  help  in  1407  from  Durham  to 
build  for  themselves  a  Chapel.^  The  Durham 
monastery  gave  them  £22  in  that  year,"  and 
£5,  18s.  4d.  in  the  following  year,  for  it.  And 
in  the  years  between  1417  and  1436  they  built  a 
library  for  their  supply  of  MSS. ;  a  building  which 
still  stands,  the  one  connecting  link  between  this 
ancient  monastic  house  and  the  modern  Trinity 
College. 

It  was  during  the  time  of  this  building  that 
the  College  had  a  sharp  tussle  to  secure  its  rights 
and  liberties.  In  1387  Pope  Benedict  XII.,  in 
his  constitution  for  the  order,  had  laid  it  down  that, 
in  order  to  secure  discipline  among  the  monastic 

"^Blakiston,  in  "Collectanea,  O.H.S.,"  vol.  iii.  p.  71,  gives  the 
MS.  account  of  the  Aedificatio  Capellae  1406-1408.  This 
Chapel  is  figured  in  Logan's  view  of  Trinity  College,  taken 
before  it  was  replaced  by  the  present  Chapel — a  building  with 
three  bays,  each  with  a  good  perpendicular  window,  and  no 
doubt  an  east  window  of  the  same  type — and  at  the  west  end, 
instead  of  an  Ante-Chapel,  a  passage  through,  into  the  Quad- 
rangle behind,  with  rooms  over. 

2  Dona  et  Exennia.     Et  ad  aedificationem  Capellae  Oxoniae 
22li.,  and  in  1408  (with  a  similar  entry),  118s.  4d, 


180  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

students,  there  should  be  appointed  in  the  chapters 
of  the  different  provinces  in  which  such  University 
hfe  existed  one  Abbot  or  Prior  to  look  after  all 
the  young  monks ;  and  the  Prior  of  the  Black 
monks  at  Oxford  claimed  this  power  over  Durham 
College.  The  College  rose  up  in  arms  against  this 
invasion  of  its  liberties ;  it  made  haste  to  show 
that  it  had  its  own  privileges  from  ancient  days ; 
in  1422  the  Durham  College  Benedictines  drew 
up  an  able  paper,  to  show  that  the  College  had 
existed  independently  long  before  Pope  Benedict 
XII.'s  statutes  and  constitutions.  In  fact  they 
resisted  the  attempt  to  bring  them  under  more 
control ;  they  wanted  no  outside  monitor.  They 
ended,  however,  by  saying  that  the  common  Prior 
might  be  a  useful  person,  and  that,  as  he  could  be 
regarded  as  a  representative  or  Proctor  of  the 
order,  they  therefore  of  their  free  good-will,  if  not 
compelled  thereto,  would  be  willing  to  bear  their 
jwo  rctta  share  in  providing  his  yearly  salary.  The 
College  accounts,  however,  do  not  betray  any 
payment  for  such  a  purpose ;  and  it  is  probable 
that  they  escaped  all  charges  on  this  score.  The 
Papal    Constitution    of  1337    had    ordered    each 


THE   MONASTIC   ARRANGEMENTS      181 

Benedictine  House  to  send  five  per  cent,  of  their 
total  number  of  monks  to  Oxford,  under  the 
Prior's  charge.  Hitherto  the  Northern  houses 
had  sent,  as  they  thought  well,  one  or  two  young 
monks  to  Durham  College ;  and  the  Southerners 
the  same  to  Gloucester  Hall.  We  have,  I  fear,  no 
trustworthy  information  as  to  the  numbers  so  sent. 
The  great  Durham  House  sent  six,  which  was 
much  above  five  per  cent.,  and  sometimes  as  many 
as  eight  were  there ;  as  to  the  others  there  are 
few  data. 

Throughout  the  fourteenth  century  the 
story  of  the  College  runs  smoothly.  There 
are  few  signs  of  discomfort  or  disorder  within 
the  walls ;  the  MS.  rolls  are  numerous  for  this 
period,  and  would  inevitably  have  betrayed  it, 
had  there  been  troubles.  There  were  clearly 
difficulties  about  finance ;  the  College  had  never 
enough  to  be  easy — and  the  efforts  of  patrons 
do  not  seem  to  have  been  very  successful ;  the 
impoverishment  of  the  mother-house  through  the 
Scottish  invasions  in  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth 
century  doubtless  drained  away  much  of  their 
resources. 


18S  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

In  the  middle  of  that  century,  also,  came  the 

great  trouble  of  the  St  Scolastica's  riot  in  Oxford, 

a   disturbance   largely    directed   against    monastic 

students.     The  University  had  but  just  returned 

from    the    suspension    caused    by    the    epidemic 

usually  styled  "the  Black  Death,"  and  was  both 

weak  and  disorderly.     The  Mayor  and  Sheriffs  of 

the    town    undertook    the    charge    of    discipline ; 

many  of  the  Halls,  formerly  occupied  by  students, 

were    resumed    by    citizens.     There    were    many 

matters   of  irritation.     And   thus  it  was  that  on 

St  Scolastica's  Day  (10th  Feb.,  135f)  there  broke 

out   in   a  tavern,   where   such   things   usually   do 

begin,  a   huge  "town  and   gown  row,"  in  which 

we    are    told    that    the    monkish    students    were 

especially     maltreated.      We     hear     that     forty 

scholars  or  masters  were  slain ;  and  many  wounds 

inflicted.     The    contemporary    low    Latin    poems 

are  full  of  curious  touches :  one   I    cannot  resist 

quoting.^     The    mixture    of    Latin    and    English 

is  quite  Macaronic. 

"  Urebat  portas  agrestis  plebs  populosa  : 
Post  res  distortas  videas  quae  sunt  viciosa, 

^  "Collectanea,"  vol.  iii.  p.  185. 


THE   ST   SCOLASTICA   RIOT  183 

Vexillum  geritur  nigrum,  sle,  sle,  recitatur. 
Credunt  quod  moritur  rex,  vel  quod  sic  simulatur. 
Clamant  liavak.  havoA;  non  sit  qui  salvificetur  : 
Smygt  faste,  gijf  good  knolc,  post  hoc  nullus  dominetur  ; 
Cornua  sumpserunt,  et  in  illis  otvt  resonantes, 
Clericulos  quaerunt."  ^ 

Much  mischief  was  done,  many  books  destroyed ; 
it  was  a  revolt  against  learning,  against  leisure, 
against  lordship.  The  numbers  in  the  University 
fell  lower  and  lower :  AVood  tells  us  that 
"out  of  two  hundred  schools  only  twenty 
were  in  use  a  century  after."  The  whole  force 
of  the  University  henceforth  centred  in  its 
colleges,  easy  and  safe,  a  sedate  oligarchical 
government  which  lasted  till  long  after  I  became 
a  Don  at  Oxford.  And  not  only  did  this  fine 
sedative  process  affect  the  constitutional  life  of 
Oxford,  but  it  also  showed  itself  in  the  way  in 
which  the  old-fashioned  education  resisted,  and, 
for  a  time,  beat  out  of  the  field  the  heralds  of 

1  A  singular  echo  of  this  we  find  in  two  ancient  Oxford 
usages  :  the  horn-blowing  on  May  morning,  and  the  curious 
survivals  of  Town  and  Gown  Rows  on  the  5th  of  November,  in 
which  I  can  remember  how  the  agrestis  plehs  populosa  used  to 
stream  into  Oxford  from  the  neighbouring  villages  for  the  fun  of 
the  row. 


184  DURHAM  COLLEGE 

the  new  learning.  It  was  the  scene  of  a  hard 
tussle  between  the  friars  and  the  outer  world  (to 
which,  to  their  credit  be  it  said,  the  monkish 
houses  were  not  altogether  hostile),  when  the 
voice  of  John  WyclifFe  proclaimed  a  return  to 
a  more  reasonable  faith  and  a  more  reasonable 
theology  based  on  Holy  Scripture  and  a  simpler 
view  of  the  Eucharist,  which  should  replace  the 
scholastic  mysteries  of  faith  and  language.  In  the 
forefront  of  this  Oxford  strife  stood  a  man  of 
whom  not  much  is  known,  but  who  must  have 
been  a  fine  specimen  of  a  Northumbrian,  Owtred 
of  Bolton  (or  Boldon),  a  Durham  man,  one 
of  the  monks  living  at  Oxford,  and  a  man  of 
repute. 

Wycliffe  "represents  admirably  that  specu- 
lative ferment  of  which  fourteenth  -  century 
Oxford  was  the  centre."  It  showed  us  "the 
last  effort  of  expiring  scholasticism ;  it  proved 
that  the  schools  could  not  effect  either  the 
intellectual  or  the  religious  emancipation  at 
which  A¥ychfFe  aimed."  The  failure  of  WyclifFe's 
reformation  was  a  real  misfortune  to  learning; 
while   the  triumph    of  Archbishop   Arundel  was 


THE   WYCLIFFITE  TIMES  185 

the  death-knell  of  the  old  Oxford  scholasticism ; 
it  created  nothing  instead,  and  left  Oxford 
intellectually  bankrupt.  It  is  not  quite  easy  to 
understand  Owtred's  position ;  the  Benedictine 
pride,  joined  with  a  desire  for  some  higher 
steps  in  education,  and  with  a  great  contempt 
for  the  popular  and  ignorant  position  of  the 
friars,  made  him  not  so  much  an  adherent  of 
Wycliffe,  but  an  eclectic  supporter  of  his  views. 
One  knows  many  an  Oxford  man  of  this  day 
who  faces  the  ignorant  fervour  of  our  nine- 
teenth-century curates  with  something  of  Owtred's 
spirit,  with  a  revolt  against  mysticism  and  the 
priestly  spirit,  and  yet  with  a  mind  disdaining  to 
condescend  to  that  simplicity  of  faith  which 
marked  AVyclifFe's  work  :  A^^yclifFe's  position 
corresponded  to  that  frank  love  of  truth  which 
characterises  the  best  minds  of  our  times. 
Probably  Owtred  sympathised  with  Wycliffe 
enough  to  see  liow  far  more  noble  he  was 
than  his  adversaries,  though  the  monastic  mould 
in  which  he  was  himself  cast  would  not  let  liim 
accept  the  strong  personal  and  Biblical  develop- 
ment of  AX'^yclifFe's  faith. 


186  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

There  has  lately  been  reprinted  a  curious 
poem  of  this  time  entitled  Tryvytlam  de  Laude 
Universitatis  Oxonice.  Tryvytlam  was  a  friar, 
probably  a  Franciscan,  and  his  "praises"  largely 
take  the  form  of  a  violent  attack  on  three 
men,  of  whom  Utred  is  abused  with  the  utmost 
virulence:  "Ab  Aquilone  malum,"  he  says,  "evil 
comes  from  the  North,"  re-echoing  Jeremiah. 
Utred  (or  Owtred)  had  written  treatises  against 
the  friars,  and  being  "one  of  the  most  learned 
of  the  Benedictines  of  his  time,"  was  naturally 
abused  with  the  strongest  language.  So  he  is 
called  "a  well-armed  beast  with  double  horns," 
and  again  "  improvidus  et  sine  consilio " ;  for  the 
poet  does  not  disdain  to  use  the  ancient  weapon 
of  making  puns  and  jokes  on  the  adversary's 
name.  And  so  Utred  is  out  of  rede,  a  man 
without  counsel  or  wisdom,  as  the  two  words 
signify. 

"  Hie  Owtrede  dicitur  apto  vocabulo, 
Ut  prsefert  nominis  interpretacio ; 
Cum  sit  improvidus  et  sine  consilio, 
Quern  magis  dirigit  Velle  quam  Racio."  ^ 


1  « 


Collectanea,"  vol.  iii.  p.  208. 


UTRED   OF   BOLDON  187 

Tryvytlani  hurries  on : 

"  His  writings  are  fantastic ;  his  syllogisms 
have  no  middle  ;  he  is  all  abstractions  till  nothing 
solid  remains ;  he  stammers  out  his  syllables ;  he 
vomits  forth  dregs  of  poison.  Above  all  the 
other  beasts,  he  has  the  foulest  mouth,  full 
of  blasphemies.  If  he  goes  on,  Oxford  will  be 
done  for." 

And  this  was  a  friar's  account  of  one  of  the 
best  monks  ever  sent  up  to  Oxford.^  He  was 
probably  Warden  of  Durham  College  in  1360, 
but  did  not  stay  long  there,  for  we  find  him 
Prior  of  Finchale  in  1367-72,  and  again  in  1377- 
97.  It  was  during  this  period,  in  1380,  that 
Bishop  Hatfield  made  him  one  of  his  trustees 
for  the  endowment  of  Durham  College. 

This  is  the  meagre  history  of  this  "pura 
bestia,"  as  Tryvytlani  calls  him :  and  even  the 
foul-mouth  friar  does  not  breathe  a  word  against 
his  moral  character.  Many,  no  doubt,  of  the 
young  Oxford  scholars  sympathised  with  Utred, 
and    with    tlie    great    master,    WyclifTe ;    still    in 

^  In  1359  Utred  received  two  .shillings  from  the  Sacrist  at 
Durham  for  his  expenses  (Domino  Uthredo  versus  Oxoniam, 
2s.);  and  in  the  same  year  help  from  Jarrow  for  his  degree. 


188  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

every  way  the  doom  was  on  the  University;  it 
could  not  accept  reform,  and  settled  down  to 
quiet  slumber  for  a  century  and  more. 

As  one  has  written,  "  In  the  councils  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  the  voice  of  Oxford  is 
never  heard."  The  earlier  excitements  and 
questions  of  the  Renaissance  on  the  religious 
side  seem  to  have  passed  unnoticed  by  Oxford. 

Under  the  surface,  no  doubt,  something  of 
WyclifFe's  pure  faith  and  bible-study  continued; 
and  when  the  great  movement  of  reformation 
followed  after  Luther's  disturbance  of  the  monastic 
slumbers  of  Germany,  there  was,  as  Mr  Rashdall 
says, 

"A  tradition  of  practical  piety,  of  love  for 
Scripture,  and  of  discontent  with  the  prevailing 
ecclesiastical  system,  which  had  lingered  long 
after  the  days  of  WyclifFe  in  the  hearts  of  the 
English  people,  and  not  least  in  obscure  corners 
of  the   two  University  towns." 

The  Register  of  Bishop  Fox,  at  AVinchester, 
bears  striking  testimony  to  the  truth  of  this ;  on 
the  eve  of  the  Reformation,  Fox  sets  himself  to 
crush  humble  AA^ycliffites,  as  an  ordinary  matter  of 
course.     Great  movements  in  England  are  usually 


FROM   DURHAM   TO   OXFORD  189 

carried  through  by  obscure  and  unconsidered 
persons.  For  England  is,  after  all,  the  land  of 
the  people,  and  their  voice,  if  roused  for  what  is 
pure  and  true,  will  in  the  end  prevail. 

We  have  still  to  sketch,  as  briefly  as  possible, 
from  such  old  sources  as  still  remain,  the  manner 
of  life  in  this  monastic  college. 

AYhen  the  picked  youths  had  been  selected, 
some  as  junior  monks,  others  as  "  seculars,"  or 
lads  picking  up  learning  and  paying  for  it  by 
service,  it  was  obviously  the  first  business  to  get 
them  from  Durham  to  Oxford. 

We  have,  unfortunately,  no  itinerary,  but 
we  may  make  sure  that  they  moved  from  one 
monastery  to  another,  following  the  lines,  well 
marked,  and  fairly  safe,  which  had  been  made 
by  the  local  traffic.  They  went  first,  no  doubt, 
to  the  great  house  at  York,  thence  through  Selby. 
We  do  not,  for  example,  know  Avhether  they 
kept  on  due  south,  after  leaving  York,  and  so 
straight  for  Oxford,  or  whether  they  slanted 
eastwards,  so  as  to  pass  through  Stamford,  with 
which  place  the  monks  of  Durham  had  much 
communication,   not   merely   at   the   time   of  the 


190  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

secession  (a.d.  1334),  but  generally,  because  they 
had  a  cell  there,  St  Lawrence's,  at  which  the 
travellers  would  be  among  friends.  Anyhow, 
the  communications  followed  well-known  lines, 
for  there  was  perpetual  coming  and  going.i 

The  young  men  travelled  on  horseback,  ^ 
going  in  fair-sized  parties,  for  company  and 
safety.  The  Cellarer's  Roll  of  1456-57  shows 
that  the  horses  were  hired  usually,  not  bought — 
for  that  roll  contains  a  simple  little  tragedy — 
for  it  tells  us  that  the  Cellarer  had  to  pay  5s.  7d. 
for  one  horse  hired  from  John  Coken  to  go  to 
Oxford,  and  it  had  died  on  arriving  there,  from 
fatigue  and  over-work.  A  fat  young  monk, 
indifferent  as  to  his  beast,  had  ridden  the  poor 
creature  too  hard.  "  Pro  uno  equo  conducto 
de  Joh.  Coken  versus  Oxoniam  et  ibidem  pro 
nimio  labore  mortuo,  5s.  7d."  To  each  student 
was   given   a   sum  of  money,  usually  3s.   4d.,  for 

^  The  itinerary  of  a  Bede  Roll,  cf.  that  of  Priors  Burnaby 
and  Ebchester  in  the  Durham  Library,  shows  how  they  moved 
from  House  to  House. 

2  See  Roll  of  1501,  1502  :  Henrico  Thees  equitanti  versus 
Oxoniam,  2s.  4d.  et  de  6s.  8d.  solutis  d'no  W.  Berkley,  d'no 
Hugoni  Whitehede  et  d'no  Joh.  Halywell  equitantibus  versus 
Oxoniam, 


THE   JOURNEY   TO   OXFORD  191 

travelling    expenses :  ^    they   could   not  have   had 

many   hotel   bills    to    pay.     When    they    reached 

Oxford  at  last,  probably  after  a  fortnight's  journey, 

and  many  small  adventures,  the  "  pueri "  or  secular 

scholars  had   to    appear  before  a  notary  (who  got 

Is.    for   each)    to  take   an   oath    of  allegiance   to 

the  College   and   University.^      Then    they   were 

settled    into    their    rooms.      The  College    had    a 

chapel   and    a   hall,    a   buttery   and   a    kitchen,    a 

common    room    or   parlour    for   all   the   members 

of  the  upper  rank  (the  seculars  or  servitors  lived 

in  the  kitchen  and  their  large  bedroom),  a  room 

sitting-room  and  bedroom  in  one  for  the  Warden, 

and  twelve  chambers  for  the  inmates,  with  twenty 

beds   in   them ;   two   of  these   chambers  had  but 

one  bed  each ;   that  is,  that  adjoining  the  library, 

and    doubtless    occupied    by    the     librarian,    and 

that      over     the     gate     or     entrance     into     the 

College,^     in     which     tlie     porter     slept.       The 

chambers   for    the    monks   had    each    two    beds ; 

and    the    "  boys "    had    three    rooms,    with    five 

^  1516-17,  et  solutum  Willcliuo  Wylome,  domino  Wyllelmo 
Hulme  et  domino  Stephano  IMerlay  versus  Oxoniam,  10s. 

2  Raine,  Hist.  Dun.  App.  clxxxviij. 

3  Near  wliere  Kettell  Hall  now  stands, 


192  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

wooden  beds  and  some  press-beds — so  that  there 
was  no  great  crowding  anywhere,  as  the  seculars 
were  usually  only  seven  or  eight  in  number. 
Thus  there  were  about  fifteen  beds  for  the  six  or 
eight  monks ;  so  that  the  community  could  very 
well  accommodate  a  friend  or  two,  and  might 
have  let  chambers  to  monks  from  other  houses. 

We  can  learn  how  these  rooms  were  furnished. 
On  the  walls  of  the  Warden's  chambers  there 
were  tapestries  hung ;  the  other  rooms  had  bare 
walls.  For  the  chapel  were  plenty  of  vestments, 
embroidery  and  altar  trappings,  and  such  silver 
as  was  needed ;  also  a  fair  collection  of  service 
books.  The  hall  was  almost  unfurnished,  four 
tables,  three  forms,  fire-irons,  silver  or  brass 
vessels,  and  knives  and  forks.  The  house  had 
some  fine  pieces  of  plate,  not  many,  but  heavy 
and  good ;    also  two-and-twenty  spoons. 

The  common  room  had  beautiful  tapestries, 
used  on  the  back  of  the  great  bench  as  bench- 
covers,  with  birds  inwoven,  and  three  cushions 
therewith ;  an  arm-chair,  a  long-settle,  a  cup- 
board, a  little  form,  nine  "  skips "  or  rush 
hassocks    under   their    feet;    two   tables,    a    pair 


FURNITURE   AT  THE   COLLEGE  193 

of  trestles,  andirons,  and  an  iron  candelabra 
fastened  to  the  wall.  The  Warden's  chamber 
had  much  the  same  furnishing — there  were  in 
it  two  beds  with  handsome  canopies  and  curtains ; 
an  arm  -  chair,  a  long  -  settle,  two  cupboards,  a 
little  bench,  a  table,  poker  and  tongs,  and  in  his 
study  a  real  good  bed,  with  tapestry  embroidered 
with  the  names  of  Jesus  Christ  and  a  star, 
washing  materials,  and  towels.  The  others  all 
washed  at  the  common  trough.  They  had  a 
stable  and  harness-room,  and  three  horses  stand- 
ing there  for  their  use.^ 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  furniture  was 
simple  and  scanty,  beautiful  as  we  might  think 
it  now ;  and  modern  requirements,  with  their 
innocent  or  foolish  luxuries,  were  altogether 
unknown.  It  was  a  common  life,  in  a  small 
and  limited  society,  with  few  excitements,  un- 
eventful, and  fit  for  lads  of  narrow  minds. 

It   is   rather   difficult   to   describe   what   these 

1  According  to  the  Bull  of  Urban  VI.  (1374-89)  there 
were  eight  monk  students  and  eight  seculars,  to  have  among 
them  five  horses  and  two  vehicles ;  they  had  also  lour  big  pigs 
and  ten  half-sized,  fourteen  little  pigs  of  three  months,  and  five 
sucking-pigs. 

N 


194  DURHAM  COLLEGE 

young  men  learnt.     It  was  a  scholastic  divinity  not 
at  all   touched   by  renaissance    or   new  ideas.     A 
careful   account   of  it  is   given  by  Anstey  in  his 
"  Munimenta  Oxon.,"  vol.  i.  chap.  Ixii.     There  was 
no  special  academic  dress,  no  organised  system  of 
lectures.     There   were  M.A.'s    licensed   to    teach, 
who     kept     rooms,     commonly     called     schools. 
Grammar     was     taught      from     "  Priscian "     or 
"Donatus."^      This    was    for    the    "pueri,"    the 
eight   seculars   at   the   College ;   the   eight  monks 
had  a  higher  course.     Then,  as  to-day.  Grammar 
and    Arithmetic    were    the    foundation   of    study 
for  Responsions,  though  in   our  time  they  are  no 
longer  taught  by  the  University.     Then  followed 
Rhetoric,  Music,  and  Logic,  and  lastly,  the  course 
of  Philosophy — natural,  moral,  and  metaphysical — 
with  translations  into  Latin  of  Aristotle  and  the 
Arabian  thinkers. 

After  that,  those  monks  who  showed  aptitude 
went  on  to  work  at  Theology,  the  Scientia 
Scientiarum ;  finally  they  returned  again  to  Dur- 
ham, where  their  education  and  savoir  faire  was 

^  The  text-book  in  Latin;  the  lads'  work  to   be  done  in 
English  and  French. 


THE   COLLEGE   LIBRARY  195 

often  rewarded  by  high  office  in  the  Monastery. 
In  the  fifteenth  century,  several  Priors  of  Durham 
had  held  office  in  the  Oxford  College ;  these  were 
Wm.  Ebchester,  John  Burnaby,  R.  Ebchester, 
John  Auckland,  T.  Castel,  and  Hugh  Whitehead, 
who  was  the  last  Prior  of  Durham,  and  became 
the  first  Dean  of  Durham  in  1541. 

With  a  view  to  the  advance  of  study,  the 
College  had  a  small  collection  of  books  in  their 
library.  Fortunately  we  have  an  early  account 
of  these  MSS.,  in  a  "  Status  Collegii,"  drawn  up, 
it  does  not  say  by  whom,  in  the  year  1315.^     This 

^  The  Catalogue  of  books  lent  to  Durham  College  in  1315 
(Blakiston,  "  Collectanea,"  vol.  iii.  pj).  36,  37)  : 

I,  2.     Four  Gospels  (2  vols.). 

3.  Scolastica  Histovia. 

4.  Enchiridion    cum     aliis    .    .    .    libris    et    Epistolis     B. 

Augustini. 

5.  B.  Augustinus  tie  Natura  Boni,  &c. 

6.  B.  Augustinus  super  Genesim  "ad  litteram." 

7.  B.  Augustini  Retractationes. 

8.  St  Paul's  Epistles,  glossed. 

9.  Henry    of     Ghent     "  medietas     scripti,"    with     certain 

disputations. 

10.  Thomae  de  Aquino  scripti,  Pars  I. 

II.  Do.  do.     Pars  III. 

12.  De  nuilo  et  potentia  cum  aliis  ({uaestionibus. 
13.-15.  Quatuor  Expo[sitioues,  R.  Graystayns]. 
16.  Mauricii  Angli  Distinctiones. 


196  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

document,  IMr  Blakiston  tells  us,  "  contains 
probably  the  earliest  Catalogue  of  books  pro- 
vided for  the  use  of  a  society  of  students  at 
Oxford."  Seven  of  these  MSS.  still  exist  among 
the  interesting  treasures  of  the  Cathedral  Library  at 

17.  S.  Gregorii,  Moralia,  Pars  IT. 

18.  S.  Gregorii,  Omeliae,  &c. 

19.  Liber  Natiiralium. 

20    Postillae  super  Job  super  librum  Salomonis. 

21.  Postillae    super     xii     Proplietas     et    super     Canonicas 

Epistolas. 

22.  Vita  St  Cutliberti. 

23.  Brito  super  dictiones  difficiles  Bibliae. 

24.  S.  Augustini  de  Moribus  Ecclesiae. 

25.  Par  histitutorum  Apparatum. 

26.  S.  Augustini  de  Trinitate. 

27.  Enchiridion,  et  quaestiones  ad   Orosium,  S.    Augustini 

Meditationes,  &c. 

28.  Anselmus,  Cur  Deus  Homo,  &c. 

29.  Quaestiones  super  Logicalia  et  naturalia. 

30.  Notulae  super  librum  de  plantis,  et  super  librum  celi  et 

mundi. 

31.  S.  Augustini  de  Disciplina  Christiana  et  libri  Damaceni 

"cum  multis  tabulis." 

32.  Boetius  super  Logicara,  &c. 

33.  Thomae  Aquinae  Expositio  super  libros  physicorum,  de 

anima,  et  metaphysica. 

34.  Grostete  (Bp.  of  Lincoln)   super  librum  Posteriorum  et 

expositio  super  metaphisica. 

35.  Avicennae  et  Algazel  Libri  Naturales. 

36.  Beda  super  Genesim,  &c. 

37.  Ysidori  Ethimologiarum. 

38.  Postillae  super  Ysaiam,  Jeremiam,  Ezekielem. 

39.  S.  Augustini  Sermones.,  &c. 


THE   COLLEGE   LIBRARY  197 

Durham.^  They  were  never  giveyi  to  the  Oxford 
College,  only  lent :  and  so  when  the  College  fell 
at  the  Dissolution  they  happily  returned  such  of 
them  as  had  not  been  stolen  in  the  chaos-time  to 
their  true  owners. 

In  this  collection  there  were  35  volumes. 

Of  these  it  will  be  noticed  that  the  first-named 
was  a  copy  of  the  Four  Gospels.  We  must  give 
the  monks  credit  for  remembering  what  the  true 
foundation  of  the  Christian  religion  was.  It 
included  also  half-a-dozen  MSS.  of  works  on 
different  books  of  Holy  Writ,  and  an  annotated 
copy  of  the  Epistles  of  St  Paul.  There  were 
several  portions  of  Augustine,  two  volumes  of  the 
erudite  St  Thomas  Aquinas,  two  of  St  Gregory  the 
Great,  a  Life  of  St  Cutlibert,  St  Anselm's  famous 
work,  "  Cur  Deus  Homo,"  and  other  pieces  ;  I^ogic 
and  Natural  Science  also  appear,  as  given  by  the 
great  Arabians,  Avicenna  and  Algazel. 

^  One  of  these  is  a  MS.  "Omelie  Gregorii  [cum]  aliis 
multis  Omeliis  diversorum  doctorum  in  uno  volumine,"  which 
was  originally  wTitten  under  the  eye  of  Bishop  Carileph,  the 
builder  of  Durham  Cathedral ;  among  the  illuminations  there 
is  one  which  appears  to  be  a  portrait  of  that  distinguished  prelate, 
for  under  the  figure  of  the  Bishop  we  read  "  Willelmus  Epils." 


198  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

In  1400  and  1409  we  have  lists  of  books  sent 
to  Oxford;— in  1400,  nineteen  IMSS. ;  in  1407, 
fourteen — these  were  devoted  mostly  to  the  study 
of  Scripture.  These  MSS.  mark  the  great  interest 
which  Prior  Wessington  always  took  in  the 
welfare  of  the  College,  although  it  does  not 
appear  that  he  ever  presided  over  it. 

While  speaking  of  the  books  of  Durham 
College,  I  should  like  to  call  attention  to  a  fine 
volume  with  a  history.  It  is  a  Latin  Bible, 
printed  a.d.  1543  at  Ziirich,^  and  may  have  been 
bought  originally  by  the  College  (though  it  was 
printed  at  the  critical  moment  of  change),  for  use 
in  chapel.  For  on  the  fly-leaf  at  the  beginning 
is  a  copy  of  the  two  prayers  ordered  specially 
to  be  used  by  the  College,  which  show  that 
it  was  intended  for  the  Oxford  chapel. 
And  then,  written  across  the  title  -  page,  is 
the  name  of  an  Oxford  bookseller,  Garbrand 
Hartenius,  Bibliopola,  1567,  who  doubtless  bought 
it  on  the  Dissolution.     Through  whose  kind  care 

^  Printed  by  Christopher  Froschover,  with  a  picture  of  a 
child  on  the  back  of  a  frog—  a  pun  on  the  printer's  name  ;  it  has 
a  lovely  little  background  of  the  Lake  of  Zurich. 


DISCIPLINE   IN   COLLEGE  199 

it  left  Oxford  and  travelled  to  Durham,  we 
know  not. 

It  is  singular  that  the  dissolution  of  the  larger 
houses,  in  1539,  did  not  appear  at  first  to  have 
affected  the  College.  We  know  that  G.  Clyffe 
was  Rector  there  in  1542,  and  was  struggling  to 
keep  the  College  standing — and  it  probably  lasted 
nearly  to  the  King's  death.  Or  there  may  have 
been  some  notion  of  a  new  reformed  college  at 
first. 

There  was  a  certain  care  of  discipline  and 
morals.  It  was  understood  that  the  Warden 
should  report  any  idle  or  dissolute  students  to 
headquarters  at  Durham.  And  two  examples 
of  unsatisfactory  life,  and  perhaps  more,  appear 
in  the  Rolls.  One  of  these  was  in  the  year  1464, 
when  the  College,  in  defence  of  its  riglits,  had 
to  give  gifts,  fees,  and  refreshers,  to  the  lawyers, 
and  to  pay  expenses  of  men  "  laborantium  versus 
Dunelmiam,"  in  the  case  of  an  appeal  from  certain 
rebellious  scholars  of  the  house.  We  know  no 
more.^ 

*  This   "  ordinatio  "  was  framed  while   Thomas  of  Hatfield 
was  Bishop  of  Durham,  in  1380,  i.e.  the  College  had  been  going 


200  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

And  again  in  1467,  only  three  years  later,  we 
have  a  grave  and  very  serious  charge  against  one 
of  the  young  monks,  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
frequenting  "loca  suspecta"  until  "there  scarce 
remained  to  him  any  covering  for  his  body  or 
coverlet  for  his  bed."  A  wild  youth  this,  and, 
doubtless,  sharply  dealt  with  by  the  Prior,  for  a 
loose  and  abandoned  life. 

The  secular  lads  had  a  flogging  held  over  them  ; 
the  young  monks  apparently  not.  As  Mr  Rashdall 
says :  "  The  prolongation  of  the  whipping  age  to 
the  verge  of  manhood  is,  perhaps,  peculiar  to  the 
English  Universities";  and  he  adds,  in  a  note, 
that  at  Durham  College,  in  the  fifteenth  century, 
the  monks  thought  that  "  castigatio "  was  a  suit- 
able punishment  for  them. 

We   may,  in  passing,  take   note  of  the   signs 

nearly  a  century.  [Cath.  Libr.  MSS.  B.  IV.  41,  22]  :— "Quod 
si  quis  eorum  se  habuerit  inhoneste,  vel  brigam  aliquam  infra  vel 
contra  collegium  vel  exterius  in  territorio  Univ.  Oxon.  movent 
vel  procuraverit,  aut  vagabunclus  die  vel  nocte  repertus  fuerit, 
aut  in  doctrina  ex  culpa  sua  vel  negligentia  non  profecerit, 
aut  contentiosus  extiterit  aut  tabernas  exercuerit  sen  alia 
joca  inhonesta,"— these  were  to  be  warned  twice,  and  on  a 
third  offence  expelled.  And  that  this  was  not  unnecessary 
we  see  in  1467, 


THE   COLLEGE   REVENUES  201 

of  English  self-government  even  inside  a  small 
institution  like  this.  The  Chest  of  the  College 
was  kept  with  three  keys— one  held  by  the  Prior, 
the  second  and  third  by  two  of  the  monks,  elected 
by  the  rest. 

The  College  was  often  in  difficulties,  and  it 
is  not  altogether  easy  to  say  what  the  amounts 
represented  in  modern  money.  Some  authorities 
reckon  a  fifteenth-century  shilling  as  worth  a 
pound  of  our  money,  others  put  it  as  low  as  12s. 
or  13s.  The  sources  of  income  were  these : — The 
College  had  tlie  great  titlies  and  advowsons  of  the 
livings  of  Frampton,  Ruddington,  Fishlake,  Bossall 
and  Northallerton,  and  some  small  receipts  from 
other  sources.  They  received  from  these  livings 
(in  the  net)  over  £76  in  money  of  that  time,  which 
may  come  to  about  £1100  of  our  money;  this, 
was  after  the  vicars  of  these  parishes  had  been  paid 
their  stipends,  wliich  were  liberal,  amounting  to 
something  between  one-third  and  one-fifth  of  the 
gross  value  of  the  livings.  In  addition  to  this 
certain  officers  (obedientiaries)  of  the  monastery 
paid  small  sums  to  the  College.  Thus  the 
Almoner  paid  20s.  (say   £15  or   £10)  for  students 


202  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

at  "Oxford  and  Stamford"  in  1352-53,  and  gave 
monks  pocket-money  when  travelling.  The  Sacrist 
paid  20s.  for  the  clerks  studying  at  Oxford,  and 
sent  6s.  8d.  to  a  novice  when  he  celebrated  his 
first  Mass.  The  Cellarer  paid  Robert  of  Ebchester 
13s.  4d.  towards  the  costs  of  his  "inception"  on 
taking  his  Degree  of  S.T.P.,  and  in  1407-8  there 
is  a  curious  entry :  30s.  8d.  "  pro  concordia,"  which 
looks  as  if  some  quarrel  had  to  be  patched  up. 
Besides  these  smaller  sums,  the  different  cells  sent 
money : — Finchale  sent  53s.  4d. ;  Coldingham, 
6s.  8d.  to  10s. ;  Jarrow,  20s.  4d.  "  in  pensione 
studentium  Oxoniae  et  Stamford"  (1364);  Wear- 
mouth  sent  32s. ;  in  all  some  £5  15s.  8d.,  say 
some  £80  of  our  money  ;  so  that  the  sum  total 
of  their  income  (omitting  the  out-goings  on  the 
livings)  was  something  like  £1200  a  year  in  our 
money.^  This  went  to  support  the  Gustos  or  Prior 
of  the  College,  who  had  an  income  (in  our  money) 
of  about  £180,  with  board  and  lodging.  And  the 
monks  had  among  them  about  £800 ;  the  secular 

^  £145,  4s.  4d.  valor  in  the  King's  books  at  the  Dissolution. 
Durham  College  is  named  as  a  monastic  house.  This  at  about 
Is.  =  20s.  =£2900, 


THE   END   or  THE   COLLEGE  203 

scholars,  the  poor,  and  servants,  used  up  all  the 
rest.  I  have  failed  to  draw  out  a  true  picture  of 
this  early  Oxford ;  it  requires  more  sight  and  more 
insight  than  I  have. 

It  remains  for  me  now  to  trace  the  end  of  it 
all.  When  Durham  College  woke  up  after  a 
hundred  and  fifty  sleeping  years,  it  found  alarm- 
ing signs  of  unwonted  movement.  In  1542,  when 
G.  ClyfFe  was  Rector  there  (a  new  title),  two 
members  of  the  College  were  sent  to  London 
"on  private  affairs,  and  things  likely  to  be  very 
fruitful  to  your  College,"  and  received  8s.  lOd. 
for  their  journey ;  and  in  the  same  roll.  Master 
G.  ClyfFe  himself  went  up  to  town  also  for  "  peace 
and  the  decorous  and  honourable  estate  and  order 
of  this  College,"  and  received  xvs.  for  this.^  But 
all  in  vain.  Durham  College  fell  soon  after  the 
great  Benedictine  house  (the  Abbey,  as  people  still 
call  it)  was  dissolved  by  Henry  VIII.  at  that  time. 
And  as  Mr  Hutton  says  in  his  monograph  on 
St  John's  College  at  Oxford : 

^  1542:  "Usque  Londiuum  circa  res  proprias  ac  in  primis 
isti  Collegio  vestro  non  infrugiferas,  viiis.  xd." :  and  "  hi 
expensis  mcis  versus  Londinuni  pro  quietudine  et  pro  decenti 
honestoque  statu  ac  ordine  istius  Collegii,  xvs." 


204  DURHAM   COLLEGE 

"  Oxford  at  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century 
was  strewn  with  the  rehgious  houses  dissolved 
and  decayed.  ...  It  was  not  easy  to  know  what 
to  do  with  the  old  monastic  buildings.  They 
were  practically  useless  to  private  owners,  who 
had  no  taste  for  an  arrangement  of  bed-chambers, 
as  extensive  and  as  intricate  as  a  rabbit-warren, 
and  less  inclination  to  live  in  public  in  a  large 
hall,  or  to  say  their  prayers  with  dignity  in  a 
private  chapel." 

And  these  old  institutions  would  have  perished 
entirely  had  not  the  public  spirit  of  the  wealthy 
British  merchants  of  the  time  stepped  in  to  save 
them,  and  to  set  them  tardily  to  work  on  the 
Renaissance  studies,  which  now,  a  century  after 
their  rise,  were  beginning  to  penetrate  within  the 
walls  of  Oxford.  To  these  practical  men  of  busi- 
ness, who  did  so  much  to  found  grammar  schools 
throughout  the  country,  we  also  owe  such  Oxford 
colleges  as  St  John's  and  Trinity,  where  Sir 
Thomas  Pope,  Henry  VIII.'s  trusted  lawyer,  set 
up  his  new  buildings  (1556)  on  the  ruins  of 
Durham  College.  There  the  library  building  in- 
tended for  the  treasures  of  Bishop  Bury,  which 
never  came,  still  stands  in  our  modern  Oxford,  a 
connecting  link  between  the  old   and   new:   like 


TRINITY   COLLEGE  205 

a    venerable    MS.   side    by   side   with   a   book   of 
to-day. 

And  so  we  reach  the  end  of  this  episode  of 
monastic  Durham  and  mediaeval  Oxford.  Oxford 
lagged  sadly  behind,  as  the  "  home  of  lost  causes  " 
has  always  resisted  the  rise  of  modern  learning, 
clinging  fondly  to  her  old  medicfival  systems ;  and 
Durham,  with  her,  missed  a  fine  chance  of  riding 
into  the  awakened  world  on  the  bright  breeze  of 
those  modern  studies,  which  were  already  filling 
the  sails  of  men  who  care  to  know  the  truth. 


V 

THE     STATUTES     OF     DURHAM 
CATHEDRAL 

The  Cathedral  Chapter  of  Durham  was  founded 
in  1541  on  the  ruins  of  a  great  Benedictine 
House. 

The  deed  of  surrender  by  Hugh  Whitehead, 
the  last  Prior  of  Durham,  is  dated  on  the  31st  of 
December  1540,  in  the  thirty-first  year  of  the 
reign  of  Henry  VIII. ;  and  this  was  followed  by 
a  Foundation  Charter,  12th  May  1541,  making 
Hugh  Whitehead  the  first  Dean,  and  creating 
the  first  twelve  Prebendaries.  Thus  was  estab- 
Hshed  the  Cathedral  Church  of  "St  Mary  the 
YiTgin  and  St  Cuthbert  the  Bishop."  Durham 
is  one  of  the  Cathedrals  of  the  New  Foundation, 
with,  as  it  will  be  seen,  certain  specialities  of  its 


206 


KIxNG   HENRYS    CHARTERS  207 

own,  which  distinguish  it  from  all  other  Cathedral 
Churches. 

The  Foundation  Charter  was  succeeded  by  a 
Charter  of  Endowment,  which  was  signed  only 
four  days  later  (IGth  May  1541).  This  grant 
created  a  wealth  which  in  the  end  exceeded 
that  of  any  religious  body  in  England.  Henry 
VIII.  seems  to  have  desired  to  make  his  Dean 
great  and  rich,  for  he  endowed  him  with  the  large 
amount  (by  the  ancient  valor)  of  £284,  4s.  8d. ; 
while  each  Prebendary  had  only  £32,  5s.  lOd. — so 
that  the  Dean  was  more  than  eight  (nearly  nine) 
times  as  well  paid  as  any  of  the  Prebendaries. 

It  is  not  known  whether  Henry  drew  up  any 
body  of  Statutes  for  the  governance  of  this  body ; 
perhaps  he  trusted  in  vain  to  the  terms  of  his 
Charter.  In  this  he  says  that  he  is  now  seized 
of  the  possessions  of  the  ^lonastery,  and  desires 
to  turn  them  to  better  account. 

"  Because  we  are  filled  with  the  desire  that 
true  religion  and  worship  of  God  shall  be  re- 
stored in  the  Cathedral,  and  reformed  to  the 
primitive  or  genuine  rule  of  sincerity,  instead  of 
the  monastic  abuses  lately  and  unhappily  prevail- 
ing; and  we   have,  therefore,  taken  such  care  as 


208  STATUTES   OF   DURHAM   CATHEDRAL 

man  can  take  and  foresee,  that  hereafter  the 
teaching  of  Holy  Writ,  and  the  sacraments  of  our 
redemption,  be  purely  and  rightly  administered ; 
good  moral  life  be  encouraged ;  the  young  be 
instructed  in  liberal  letters ;  the  old  be  supported 
in  their  infirmity  (especially  if  they  have  been  in 
Our  service),  and  the  poor  in  Christ  helped  by 
alms :  that  the  '  trinode  necessity '  be  supported 
(roads,  bridges,  fortifications,  service  of  warriors) 
— and  all  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  welfare  of 
the  neighbourhood." 

For  this  purpose  he  makes  the  Abbey  Church 
the  seat  of  the  Bishop,  to  be  managed  by  a  Dean 
and  twelve  Prebendaries,  all  named ;  he  grants 
them  the  privileges  of  a  body  corporate,  with 
possessions  and  powers  befitting.  The  King  en- 
trusts the  appointment,  correction,  and  deposition 
of  all  inferior  officers  to  the  Dean. 

All  this  is  fairly  vague.  Nothing  whatever  is 
said  about  rules  of  residence,  etc.,  such  matters 
apparently  being  taken  for  granted. 

Under  these  two  documents  the  new  body 
corporate  lived  for  a  short  while,  probably  with 
but  little  change  of  service  or  usage ;  also  with 
a  somewhat  slack  attendance  to  duty;  so  that, 
about  twelve  years  later,  Cardinal  Pole,  advising 


LAY   DEANS  209 

Queen  Mary,  proposed  to  create  bodies  of  Statutes, 
first  for  Durham  and  then  for  all  other  cathedrals. 

That  Deans  did  not  necessarily  live  much 
on  their  deaneries  is  illustrated,  I  may  say  in 
passing,  by  the  history  of  Sir  John  Mason,  the 
second  Dean  of  Winchester,  who  was  also  Henry 
VIII.'s  Master  of  Requests.  He  was  appointed 
in  1549,  being  a  layman,  "with  no  pretention  to  an 
ecclesiastical  benefice."  He  was  chiefly  employed 
abroad — in  almost  every  European  country — a 
married  man,  a  Roman  Catholic  and  a  Dean — "  a 
pliant  Roman  Catholic  " — "  and  one  of  such  service 
to  all  parties,  and  observing  such  moderation,  that 
every  one  thought  him  his  own."  He  was  also 
M.P.,  and  Chancellor  of  Oxford  University. 

Burns,  "  Ecclesiastical  Law,"  quoting  Godolphin 
(p.  367),  says : 

"  The  Dean  may  be  a  layman ;  as  was  the 
Dean  of  Durham,  by  special  licence  and  dis- 
pensation from  the  king ;  but  this  is  rare,  and 
a  special  case,  and  is  not  common  and  general, 
and   therefore  not  to  be  brought  as  an  example." 

This   layman  was   probably  Andrew   Newton, 

Knight  and   Baronet ;   he  made  the  canon  of  the 

o 


210  STATUTES   OF  DURHAM   CATHEDRAL 

twelfth  stall  his  proxy,  a.d.  1606-20 ;  or  perhaps 
it  was  W.  Whittingham,  who  was  in  Genevan 
Orders  only.     And  Dr  Watson  (chap,  xiv.)  says  : 

"  Though  in  former  days  a  layman  might  have 
taken  a  title  to  a  deanery,  yet  now,  by  13  and  14 
Chas.  II.  2,  cap.  4,  a  person  must  have  priest's 
orders  to  qualify  him." 

In  the  Commission  issued  by  Philip  and  Mary 
under  Pole's  influence,  for  the  revision  of 
Cathedral  Statutes,  much  doubt  is  thrown  on 
this  earlier  foundation  by  Henry  VIII. 

"  Seeing  that  the  Cathedral  Church  of  Durham 
is  as  yet  very  scantily  established  on  I^aws  and 
Statutes,  without  which  no  house  or  city  can 
stand  long.  .  .  .  We  have  appointed,  for  the 
making  of  Statutes  therein,  Nicholas  (Heath), 
Archbishop  of  York  elect,  Edmund  (Bonner), 
Bishop  of  London,  Cuthbert  (Tonstall),  Bishop 
of  Durham,  Thomas  (Thirlby),  Bishop  of  Ely, 
and  Wm.  Ermysted  [Armitstead],  the  King's 
Chaplain,  to  undertake  the  task." 

And  then  he  adds  : 

"  We  have  given  them  power  by  our  letters 
patent  to  supervise,  change,  correct,  and  edit 
the  old  Statutes  of  this  Cathedral,  if  tliere  are 
any  extant.''' 


QUEEN   MARY'S   COMMISSION  211 

It  seems  clear  from  this  that  there  was  even 
then  great  doubt  as  to  the  existence  of  any  proper 
Statutes. 

All  this  was  undertaken  under  the  terms  of 
an  Act  of  Parliament  (2nd  April,  1554),  giving 
Queen  Mary  the  power  to  make  Statutes  and 
Ordinances  for  the  governance  of  all  collegiate 
churches  and  cathedrals. 

This  Act  declares  that  Henry  VIII.'s  Charters 
or  Statutes  were  not  duly  indented,  and  that 
consequently  they  were  without  authority ;  also 
that  the  late  King  gave  them  for  his  own  life- 
time and  no  more ;  so  that  there  was  a  doubt 
whether  they  would  be  valid  in  the  next  reign. 
Queen  Mary,  therefore,  declares  that  an  Act  of 
Parliament  is  needed  to  confirm  them  all.  She 
was  not  so  masterful  as  her  father. 

These  were  tlie  reasons  alleged  by  Parliament 
for  an  Act  to  be  passed  for  confirmation  of 
Statutes. 

There  was,  however,  underneath  it  a  feeling 
that  the  Cathedral  bodies  were  not  doino;  their 
duty  faithfully.  Cardinal  Pole  gives  us  to  under- 
stand    that    residence     at     Durham     was     much 


212  STATUTES   OF   DURHAM   CATHEDRAL 

neglected ;  and  that  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  do 
what  he  could  to  remedy  such  slackness.  He  tells 
us  in  his  "Reformatio  Anglian"  (1562),  fol.  11,  12, 
Decretum  III.:  De  residentia  Episcoporum  et 
aliorum  inferioris  ordinis  clericorum : 

"  As  we  see  that  there  are  many  who,  being 
in  charge  of  churches,  are  the  cause  of  a  great 
abuse ;  for  they  leave  the  care  of  their  churches 
to  mercenaries,  and  take  no  trouble  about  them, 
to  the  mighty  damage  of  these  churches ; — so, 
to  compel  them  to  do  their  duty,  we  order,  by 
stricter  Statutes  of  such  churches  and  colleges, 
that  henceforward  all  Deans,  Provosts,  and  other 
dignitaries  of  cathedral  and  collegiate  churches 
shall  be  present  and  do  their  proper  duty  in  the 
same." 

He  adds  that  the  churches  are  all  but  reduced 
to  a  solitude :  canons,  too,  are  ordered  to  keep 
residence  in  future. 

Hence  came  the  creation  of  that  body  of 
Statutes,  under  which  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of 
Durham  are  still  ruled. 

These  Statutes  are  dated  20th  March,  1555. 
In  them  we  have  the  only  Statutes  of  an  English 
Cathedral  issued  by  a  Roman  Catholic  Queen, 
and   still    in    force.     It    is    obvious    that    Queen 


THE   REASONS   FOR  TH£M  213 

Mary  intended  to  issue  Statutes  at  any  rate  for 
all  the  Cathedrals  of  the  New  Foundation.  Her 
life,  however,  was  drawing  fast  to  an  end ;  and 
there  are  indications  that  these  Durham  Statutes 
were  not  altogether  satisfactory  to  their  authors : 
probably  it  was  felt  that  some  delay  was  proper, 
before  this  Durham  body  of  Statutes  was  taken 
as  the  pattern,  mutatis  mutandis,  for  the  rest. 
The  list  of  "  Loca  in  Statutis  reformata,"  etc., 
to  be  found  at  the  end  of  the  Code,  is  evidently 
unfinished ;  it  is  probable  that  this  was  never 
sanctioned  by  any  competent  authority ;  and  it  is 
certainly  the  case  that  the  Queen  never  issued 
any  further  commission  for  Statutes,  and  that 
the  Durham  Statutes  are  unique.  In  fact,  we 
are  the  only  Protestant  Cathedral  community 
which  is  ruled  by  distinctly  Roman  Catholic 
Statutes. 

At  the  opening  of  Convocation,  Pole  gave 
the  following  instruction  : 

"Deinde  voluit  rev"';""'*  statuta  ecclesiarum 
noviter  erectarum  et  mutatarum  a  regularibus 
ad  seculares  expendi  (?  expandi)  per  Episcopos 
Lincolniensem,    Cicestrensem,   etc.,   et  quae   con- 


214  STATUTES   OF    DURHAM   CATHEDRAL 

sideranda  sunt  referri  Rev""^  quam  primum 
commode  poterunt. 

"  But  the  Queen  died,  and  nothing  more  was 
done."^ 

And  how  do  we  get  over  this  difficulty,  and 
fulfil  our  engagements  to  obey  these  Statutes  ? 

In  the  first  place,  the  blessed  rule  of  custom 
comes  in ;  men  have  dropped  inconvenient  usages. 
I  am  not  a  lover  of  ceremony,  nor  do  I  want  to 
be  treated  with  excess  of  honour.  Still,  it  would 
be  nice  to  feel  that  my  brethren  recognised,  in 
the  words  of  the  Statutes,  that 

"  The  Dean  s  power  and  jurisdiction  is  supreme, 
touching  the  government  of  the  Church.  He 
shall  hear  all  causes  relative  to  the  Chapter,  and, 
assisted  by  their  opinions,  determine  therein  ;  he 
shall  correct  excesses,  and  reprehend  all  obstinate 
offenders.  He  shall  invest  the  Prebendaries,  and 
take  their  oaths.  Being  superior  in  authority, 
all  shall  rise  up  when  he  enters  or  departs  from 
the  choir  or  Chapter  House.  He  is  first  in 
place  and  voice.  The  ringing  of  bells  must 
wait  on  him,  morning  and  evening,  or  on  festivals, 
when  he  is  to  perform  the  offices ;  not  at  other 
times,  unless  he  takes  the  Mass.  On  such  days 
he  is  to  chant  the  anthems,  or  such  of  the  canons 

1  Bums,  "Ecclesiastical  Law,"  vol.  i.  p.  456. 


ANCIExNT   USAGES  215 

as  he  shall  appoint  therefor.  In  reading  the 
service  he  shall  not  quit  his  seat.  .  .  .  All  the 
ministers  of  the  Church  shall  bow  to  him  in  his 
stall,  as  they  enter  the  choir  or  depart  from  it." 

It  would  be  too  painful  for  me  to  have  to 
say  how  far  these  beautiful  usages  have  gone 
out.  And  it  is  the  same  with  many  another 
and  more  important  instruction. 

Next,  we  have  the  Act  of  Queen  Anne,  cap.  6, 
"  for  avoiding  doubts  and  questions  touching 
the  Statutes  of  divers  cathedrals  and  collegiate 
churches."  It  has  at  the  end  a  restrictive  clause — 
"  Nevertheless,  so  far  forth  only  as  the  same  or 
any  of  them  are  in  no  manner  repugnant  to,  or 
inconsistent  with,  the  constitutions  of  the  Church 
of  England,  as  it  is  now  by  law  established, 
or  the  laws  of  the  land."  So  that  here  peep  in  the 
Thirty-nine  Articles,  and  the  Act  of  Uniformity ; 
the  order  to  perform  certain  iNIasses,  and  to  do 
certain  things  in  special  honour  of  the  V^irgin 
JNIary,  are  hereby  ruled  out. 

Our  Statutes  are  said  to  have  been  duly 
signed  by  the  four  Commissioners,  but  were 
never    issued   under   the    Great   Seal.      Still,  the 


216  STATUTES   OF  DURHAM    CATHEDRAL 

usage  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  has,  no 
doubt,  made  them  in  every  way  vaUd  and 
binding. 

The  most  remarkable  thing  about  these  Statutes 
is  the  fact  that,  not  only  has  the  original  been 
lost,  but,  till  quite  lately,  the  oldest  copy  known 
to  be  in  existence  was  that  belonging  to  the 
Deanery,  transcribed  by  INIr  Viner  between  the 
years  1774-77  ;  this  date  being  fixed  by  the  dedica- 
tion to  Dean  Dampier,  who  was  Dean  only  for 
those  three  years. 

There  appears  to  have  been  at  that  time  an 
earlier  copy  in  the  Dean's  possession,  for  the 
title  of  INIr  Viner 's  transcript  says :  "  Hoc 
exemplar  Statutorum  ejusdem  Ecclesiae  cum 
authentico  Decani  manuscripto  fideliter  coUatum." 
He  unfortunately  adds  nothing  respecting  this 
"authentic  MS."  of  the  Dean.  Anyhow,  when 
in  1894  I  entered  on  my  duties  as  Dean 
of  Durham,  this  copy  made  by  Mr  Viner 
was  the  oldest  known  MS.  of  these  unique 
Statutes. 

Nor  have  we  any  MS.  or  copy  of  any  kind  of 
any   Statutes   of   King    Henry    VIII.      If   there 


THE   SEARCH   FOR   THEM  217 

were  any,  they  probably  did  not  differ  much 
from  Queen  Mary's,  except  that  Pole  was  more 
anxious  than  Henry  had  been  for  the  reading  of 
Scripture,  the  preaching  of  sermons,  and  the 
education  of  youth.  Some  even  think  that  they 
never  took  the  form  of  Statutes. 

One  thing  is  quite  certain :  neither  the  original 
of  Henry  A^III.'s  Statutes,  nor  of  those  of  Queen 
Mary,    can    now    be    found.       I    have    searched 
carefully     for    them,    with    but    partial    success. 
About  three  years  ago,  when  I  was  on  my  way 
to  visit  friends  in  a  house   on  the  Embankment 
in  London,    I  found   myself  with    an    idle    half- 
hour  on  my  hands.     It  occurred  to  me,  as  I  was 
close  to  Lambeth  Palace,  to  pay   a  visit  to   the 
Archiepiscopal   Library,   and    enquire   whether   it 
contained    any   documents    bearing    on    Durham, 
and    more   particularly   as   to   the    Statutes.     My 
kind   friend    the  librarian,  Mr  Kershaw,    brought 
me  a  volume  of  "  Collectanea,"  and  in  this  I  soon 
found  myself  looking  at  a  MS.  which  turned  out 
to  be  a  copy  of  the  Marian  Statutes  of  Durham, 
made    for    Cardinal    Pole    at    Lambeth,   in    July 
1556. 


218  STATUTES   OF   DURHAM   CATHEDRAL 

At  the  end  of  it  we  read : 

"  Facta  collatione  concordat  cum  original! 
libro  apud  reverendissimum  dominum  Reginaldum 
Cardinalem  Legatum  a  latere  et  archiepiscopum 
Cantuariensem  totius  Angliae  primatem  rema- 
nente." 

And  after  that : 

"  Considerantes  tempora  ultimi  seismatis  omni- 
bus ornamentis  spoliatam  ecclesiam  stipendium 
parvum  admodum  ministris  hujus  Ecclesiae  per 
statuta  assignari,  in  cujus  rei  aliquantulum 
sublevamen  nos  Decanus  et  Capitulum  communi 
et  universali  consensu,  .  .  .  20  (?)  Julii  a.  s.  mdlvi 
in  generali  capitulo  nostro  Dunelmensi  statuimus 
et  decrevimus,  ut  quicunque,"  etc. 

This  early  copy  of  1556  is  the  first  trace  we 
have  of  the  original  JNIS. ;  and  a  note  in 
Hutchinson,  "  History  and  Antiquities  of  the 
County  Palatine  of  Durham,"  1787,  vol.  ii. 
p.  139,  throws  a  dim  light  on  this  point;  he  says: 

"Anthony  Salvyn,  one  of  the  prebendaries, 
was  sent  up  as  proxy  for  the  Chapter  of 
Durham,  to  appear  before  Cardinal  Pole  and 
the  Queen's  Commissioners,  the  30th  of  October, 
3  and  4  Philip  and  Mary,  when  the  corrective 
Statutes  were  made.  Tis  said  the  originals 
were  kept  by  the  Cardinal,  and  by  him  sent  to 


THE   SEARCH   FOR   THEM  219 

Rome ;  for  they  never  came  back  again,  and  in 
all  probability  are  now  in  the  Vatican." 

And  Bishop  Cosin  and  the  Dean  and 
Chapter,  in  1665,  agreed  to  make  enquiries  at 
the  Rolls  office,  or  the  Tower,  or  any  of  the 
King's  Courts,  "within  a  twelvemonth  after  it 
hath  pleased  God  to  cease  the  present  pestilence." 

And  Dr  Basire  presently  replied  to  the 
Chapter,  as  follows : 

"  I  took  the  paines  to  cause  a  search  to  be 
made  in  the  rolls,  but  found  nothing.  Tlie 
like  I  did  with  Mr  Dugdale,  when  he  was 
searching  the  records  of  the  dioceses,  and  the 
records  of  St  Paul's  Church ;  and  to  encourage 
him  I  gave  him  a  gratuity  from  the  Dean  and 
Chapter,  but  sped  no  better.  AVhat  may  be 
found  in  the  Tower  1  know  not,  having  had 
neither  time  nor  opportunity  to  search  there ; 
Mr  Wm.  Prynn  (no  great  friend  to  cathedrals) 
being  the  keeper  of  these  records." 

When  1  was  in  Rome  in  the  spring  of  1899, 
I  took  advantage  of  an  old  acquaintance  with 
Mr  Wm.  Bliss,  who  is  engaged  in  the  V^atican 
Library,  copying  from  the  Rolls,  and  so  a 
habitue  of  that  Library,  to  get  an  introduction 
to  the  inner  world  of  that  marvellous  collection 


220  STATUTES   OF   DURHAM   CATHEDRAL 

of  ]MSS.  I  found  much  courtesy,  and,  what  was 
worth  still  more,  some  admirable  catalogues, 
which,  so  far  as  they  went,  convinced  me  that 
my  desired  MS.  did  not  lie  on  the  surface  of 
the  Vatican  stores.  No  one  who  desires  to 
write  on  Durham  can  do  it  worthily  without  a 
good  stay  at  Rome.  There  is  one  heading  of 
those  catalogues,  "  Ecclesia  Dunelmensis,"  which 
makes  the  mouth  water!  There  are  mines  of 
information  there  about  the  pre-Reformational 
Bishops,  etc.,  but  of  Pole's  MSS.  no  trace. 

An  English  Jesuit  gentleman,  whom  I  met 
there,  kindly  took  an  interest  in  the  subject. 
He  told  me  that,  in  all  probability,  those  docu- 
ments were  sent  to  Italy  by  the  hand  of 
Niccolo  Ormaneto,  then  Pole's  secretary,  after- 
wards a  bishop  in  Italy,  and  a  channel  of 
communication  with  Rome ;  and  also  that 
Ormaneto  might  have  left  the  papers  either  at 
Padua  or  Verona. 

These  two  interesting  cities  I  also  visited, 
and  searched  the  three  libraries  of  Padua,  and 
also  the  Cathedral  Library  of  Verona — all  in  vain. 

The   only  thing   1    could   do   was   to  beseech 


THE   CORRECTIONS   OF  THEM  221 

Mr  Bliss  to  keep  an  open  eye,  in  his  work  in 
the  Manuscript  Rooms  of  the  Vatican,  for 
anything  bearing  on  Durham  or  the  lost  MS. 
And  with  this  slender  hope  remaining,  I 
desisted. 

The  MS.  I  discovered  at  Lambeth  is  all 
that  brings  us  near  the  origin  of  the  matter. 
It  is  therefore  valuable,  though  but  a  rather 
careless  copy  of  the  original. 

At  the  end  of  the  Statutes  we  have  a  list 
of  *'  Corrigenda  et  Emendanda " ;  as  to  which  it 
is  hard  to  say  whether  or  not  they  ever  secured 
authority.  They  look  as  if  Pole  had  been 
anxious  to  make  these  Durham  Statutes  as 
perfect  as  he  could,  before  issuing  them  as 
patterns  for  all  other  cathedrals.  At  any  rate, 
the  discovery  of  the  Lambeth  ^IS.  proves  that 
the  Queen  and  Pole  were  still  at  work  on  the 
document  close  to  the  end  of  their  lives.  When 
they  were  swept  away,  almost  at  the  same  time, 
their  work  stood  still.  "  The  corrections  and 
additions  were  made  30th  December,  1556, 
but  by  what  authority  is  not  known." 

Here,  then,  we  stand  at  the  present  with  no 


S22  STATUTES   OF   DURHAM   CATHEDRAL 

prospect  of  more  knowledge  on  the  subject. 
The  Marian  Statutes  were,  in  accordance  with 
Pole's  wishes,  a  striking  advance  on  their  pre- 
decessors, whether  we  look  at  Henry's  Charter 
or  at  his  supposed  Statutes.  The  present  code 
recognises  the  authority  of  Parliament,  and  is 
not  solely  based  on  the  royal  prerogative.  Mary 
significantly  omits  the  oath  of  the  King's 
supremacy  ;  by  which  she  seems  to  show  a  wish 
to  undo  what  Henry  had  done  against  the 
Papal  supremacy.  The  whole  tendency  of  her 
Statutes  is  strongly  in  the  direction  of  a 
reformed  Romanism.  One  sees  the  influence  of 
Cardinal  Pole  everywhere. 

Henry  exalted  in  every  way  the  Dean's 
power:  the  Marian  Statutes  limit  it,  in  a 
wholesome  way,  giving  less  chances  for  tyranny, 
though  more  for  inaction  thereby;  these  Statutes 
also  insist  on  the  duty  of  preaching  the  Gospel, 
and  making  the  dignities  and  wealth  of  the  body 
a  reality.  They  also,  in  the  paper  of  corrections, 
direct  that  the  scholars  in  the  Grammar  School 
should  be  chosen  according  to  their  progress  in 
learning,  and  not  merely  on  eleemosynary  grounds. 


THE   DEAN'S   RESIDENCE  223 

Residence    was    put    on     a    surer    footing :     the 
neglect  of  this  was  the  scandal  of  early  capitular 
government;    the  great  churches  were  as  deserts, 
and     no    spiritual    work    went    on.      The    new 
Statutes     insist,     with     an     unanswerable     argu- 
ment, on  residence.     And,  singularly  enough,  the 
Dean   {who  in  no  other  cathedral  is  so   limited) 
is    held    to    be    bound    to    keep    three    weeks    of 
"  close    residence "    in    each    year.     It  is  nowhere 
distinctly    ordered ;    but    in    one    passage    of   the 
Statutes,    cap.    xvi.,    he    is    referred    to  as    being 
"  present " ;       and      in      this     "  Residentes  "     are 
described :   "qui  ad  minimum  dies  xxi  continues 
quotannis    in    ecclesia    Cathedrali    divinis    officiis 
juxta    normam    statutorum    iiitersunt   et   familias 
ibidem    alunt " ;    and    then,   at   the   close   of  cap. 
xvi.,  after    giving    the    Dean    leave    of    absence 
for   Bearpark,   it   goes   on :    "  dummodo   illic    (sc. 
Bearpark)  hospitalitatem  more  residentium  servet, 
et  pro  singulis  diebus  illis  uni  horae  canonicae  vel 
missae   majori    ac   tractandis    in    capitulo    intersit 
negotiis ;  ac  etiam  ante  vel  loost  dies  xxi  contiiiuos 
in  ecclesia  Cathedrali  residentiam  servaverit.'' 
The  Dean    is   now   bound   by   Act  of  Parlia- 


224  STATUTES   OF  DURHAM    CATHEDRAL    • 

merit  to  reside  for  eight  months,  leaving  the 
manner  of  residence  quite  open. 

In  these  matters  our  present  Statutes  deserve 
much  praise.  They  contain  many  things  quite 
obsolete ;  they  cannot  solve  the  great  questions — 
What  is  the  value  of  such  institutions?  And 
what  do  they  achieve  by  vi^ay  of  furthering 
simple  religion  and  godliness  in  a  diocese  ?  Or 
we  may  ask :  How  far  do  they  help  the  Bishop 
in  his  efforts  for  good  ?  And  what  do  they 
contribute  towards  a  learned  clergy  ?  And  are 
they  refuges  in  which  irregular  yet  pious  minds 
have  shelter?  There  are  many  such  questions, 
to  which  I  can  give  no  answer.  The  efficiency 
of  religion  has  not  always  been  much  advanced  by 
such  bodies.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have  known 
cases  in  which  a  Cathedral  Chapter  has  stood  for 
an  advance,  in  the  midst  of  a  reluctant  world. 

At  least,  let  me  end  by  saying,  that  in  such 
havens  men  have  some  shelter  from  the  wild 
competitions  and  hurrying  rush  of  modern  life : 
houses  let  them  be  of  grave  meditation,  of  peace 
and  good- will,  and  of  a  recognition  of  the  blessed 
message  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ, 


VI 

THE  NORTH  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH 

CENTURY 

A  Visit  of  jEneas  Sylvius  Piccolomini  {aftencards  Pope  Pius  II.) 

in  U35-36. 

Pope  Pius  II.  has  been  well  called  "the  first 
modern  man  in  history,"  ^  a  forerunner  of  the 
coming  world. 

This  keen-witted,  bright-eyed  youth,  happily 
for  us,  while  yet  in  observant  years,  was  sent 
to  Scotland  in  the  winter  of  1435-36 ;  and  on  his 
return  traversed  England  from  Berwick  to  Dover, 
whence  he  set  sail  for  France.  His  fortunes 
untried,  his  future  all  dreamy  as  yet,  he,  a 
layman  thirty  years  old,  was  entrusted  with 
an  informal  mission  to  the  Court  of  James  I. 
of     Scotland.       In    his    amusing    letters,    in    his 

^  "Burckhardt,"  vol.  ii.  p.  32. 

p  225 


226      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

Commentaries  and  in  his  "  Cosmographia,"  he 
bequeaths  to  us  a  vivid  picture  of  the  North,  as 
he  saw  it  with  Itahan  wondering  eyes. 

Enea  Silvio  Bartolomeo  de'  Piecolomini  was 
the  eldest  son  of  the  head  of  that  ruined  family 
of  nobles,  and  was  born  at  Corsignano,  in  the 
year  1405,  whither  his  parents  had  withdrawn 
for  peace  and  refuge  after  a  revolution  at  Siena — 
a  revolution  which  was  an  echo  of  many  similar 
disturbances  in  Italian  cities ;  it  had  given 
triumph  to  the  popular  party  and  had  brought 
about  the  exile  of  the  nobles.  In  Corsignano 
the  Piecolomini  took  up  their  abode,  being  made 
suddenly  poor,  living  a  simple  life,  scarce  allaying 
their  poverty  with  their  pride.  Yet,  in  due 
time,  they  made  a  strong  effort  for  their  eldest 
son,  and  sent  him  out  to  study  the  law. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
there  had  sprung  up  a  resounding  strife  between 
the  stiff  medisevalism  and  barbarous  Latinity 
of  the  Church  and  the  Law  on  the  one  side,  and 
on  the  other,  the  warm  life  and  beauty  of  the 
new  studies,  new,  though  in  truth  they  were 
far  older  than  the  dried-up  methods  of  the  current 


CLASSICAL  STUDIES   AND   LAW        227 

education.  Men  woke  up  to  feel  the  nobleness 
of  classic  masterpieces ;  they  were  eager  to  live 
among  the  thoughts  of  their  kinsfolk  of  old  time 
who  formed  the  cultured  world  before  Christianity; 
the  ambition  of  literary  culture,  the  honour  due 
to  the  graceful  writings  of  Rome's  best  period 
of  letters,  which  touched  with  gold  the  decaying 
pinnacles  of  her  imperial  fortress : — all  these 
things  appealed,  as  noble  things  still  appeal,  to 
the  young  and  generous. 

>^neas  certainly  learned  from  his  legal  in- 
structors the  useful  arts  of  quibbling  and  balanc- 
ing,— acquirements  only  too  useful  for  a  quick- 
witted Italian,  and  only  too  convenient  for  one 
who  fell  very  short  in  moral  principle.  Other- 
wise the  form  in  which  his  education  was  carried 
on  was  repulsive  to  him ;  ere  long  he  deserted 
his  pedantic  masters,  and  abandoned  himself  to 
the  delights  of  a  well-balanced  style  of  shallow 
thought.  Ciceronian  it  was,  no  doubt,  with 
something  of  tlie  Roman's  learned  skill  and 
intellectual  thinness ;  the  new  school  could 
faintly  echo  Cicero's  inimitable  style  and  grace ; 
they  all  tried  to  write  Epistles,  after  the  master's 


228      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

manner;  they  ventured  on  neat  copies  of  verses 
in  classical  measures,  they  composed  moral,  or 
it  might  be,  immoral  treatises ;  they  learnt  to 
write,  with  happy  knack,  well-sounding  periods 
of  Latin  prose.  Compared  with  the  half-barbarous 
condition  of  mediaeval  literature,  these  graceful 
compositions  shone  as  with  a  glitter  of  light  in 
a  dark  world.  Their  classical  Latinity  seemed 
like  another  tongue,  so  clear,  so  bright,  so  con- 
vincing ;  one  could  feel  that  it  was  in  some  way 
parallel  to  the  relation  between  the  contemporary 
cinquecento  architecture  and  the  ancient  classical 
style.  In  those  days,  days  of  awakening  to 
discovery,  to  ingenious  invention,  to  literary 
adventure,  a  man  on  wings  of  Latin  prose  might 
rise  to  any  height.  It  was  through  this  light 
and  superficial  gift  that  ^neas  Sylvius  rose  in 
about  thirty  years  to  the  Papacy  as  Pius  II. 

In  these  early  days,  however,  no  thought 
of  clerical  career  or  advancement  had  crossed 
his  mind.  He  himself  says  so ;  he  tells  us  he 
was  of  a  worldly  spirit,  had  a  hungry  ambition 
hindered  by  no  scruples,  and  a  self-indulgence 
bounded  by  no  moral   restraint : — these  were  the 


THE   COUNCIL   OF   BASLE  229 

principles  of  his  young  manhood.  Master  of 
this  pure  Latinity,  the  vehicle  of  command  for 
all  the  world,  the  speech  first  of  the  dominant 
Imperial  State,  and  then  of  the  Imperial  Church, 
^neas  was  already  equipped,  with  mother-wit 
and  quickness  of  interest,  for  the  difficult  task 
of  carving  out  for  himself  a  career,  and  of 
securing  a  firm  footing  in  the  turmoil  of  the 
world. 

He  was  twenty-six  years  old  when  he 
obtained  his  first  post,  that  of  secretary  to 
Domenico  Capranica,  Bishop  of  Fermo,  in  whose 
retinue  he  set  out  to  join  the  conciliar  revolt 
against  the  Papacy  of  Eugenius  IV. 

For  the  Council  of  Basle  was  a  revolt  against 
the  past,  and  yEneas,  full  of  high  hopes  and 
dreams,  rejoiced  to  feel  himself  in  the  stream 
of  modern  ideas.  Then,  as  now,  the  self-seeker 
begins  with  noble  pln-ases,  and,  as  ambition 
corrupts  liim  and  the  worse  world  unfolds  itself 
before  him,  abandons  the  Liberal  ranks  and 
rallies  to  reaction.  For  all  reaction  keeps  itself 
alive  by  tempting  new  recruits  from  the  vainer 
spirits  among  its  antagonists. 


230      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

To  ^Eneas,  in  whose  eyes  at  this  time  a 
Churchman  was  nearly  as  retrograde  as  a 
Lawyer,  the  Council  of  Basle  was  full  of  hopes. 
All  men  saw  the  corruption  of  the  times,  all 
hoped  for  wholesome  change.  And  iEneas  rode 
in,  a  handsome,  lively  little  man,  on  the  crest 
of  the  liberal  movement  of  the  day.  To  erect 
national  Churches,  to  proclaim  local  independence, 
to  stir  the  entranced  world  with  eloquent 
Ciceronian  speeches,  these  were  the  high  things 
towards  which  young  Piccolomini  was  hastening. 
JMeanwhile,  behind  the  back  of  the  Council,  the 
secular  Princes  pulled  their  strings  to  direct  the 
movements  of  the  age  so  as  to  secure  their 
own  selfish  interests. 

The  Congress  of  Arras,  to  which  ^neas  went 
with  his  master,  seemed  to  be  little  more  than 
the  secular  echo  of  the  Council  of  Basle :  the 
one  was  to  settle  the  difficulties  round  the 
Papacy,  the  other  to  arrange  the  claims  of  the 
monarchs  of  Europe,  and  to  settle  the  nations, 
now  in  their  growing  strength,  within  their  proper 
limits. 

In  the  course  of  the  Congress   France   made 


THE   CONGRESS   OF   ARRAS  231 

a  proposal  to  England,  to  the  effect  that,  if 
France  ceded  Normandy  and  Aquitaine  as  fiefs 
of  the  English  Crown,  Henry  \^I.  of  England 
should  entirely  drop  the  English  claim  to  the 
throne  of  France.  The  English  king,  guided 
apparently  by  Cardinal  Beaufort — the  Church- 
man, after  the  manner  of  such,  throwing  liis 
weight  into  the  scale  against  peace — refused 
these  reasonable  terms,  and  the  work  of  the 
Congress  seemed  to  have  come  to  an  empty 
end.  Thereupon,  Philip  of  Burgundy,  till  tliat 
time  the  counterpoise-power,  went  over  to  the 
French  side,  made  his  terms  with  Charles  VII., 
and  did  homage  to  him  as  his  king.  And 
Bedford,  the  most  prominent  Englishman  of  the 
age,  at  this  moment  died  at  Bouen. 

Things  now  looked  bad  for  England,  and 
the  fortunes  of  France  rose  to  a  level  never 
before  reached.  All  things  seemed  possible  to 
her.  It  was  thought  tliat  the  English  king  would 
make  an  effort  to  break  up  the  new  combina- 
tion between  France  and  Burgundy.  ^\nd  these 
two  powers  saw  that  if  they  could  persuade 
Scotland,    the    permanent    rival    of    England,   to 


232      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

worry  the  northern  frontier,  it  would  give  them 
a  fair  opportunity  for  taking  the  offensive ;  while 
Henry  VI.  was  engaged  at  home  they  hoped  to 
sweep  the  EngHsh  garrisons  out  of  Normandy. 
Thus  they  would  win  a  triumph  and  consolidate 
France,  and  teach  the  English  king  that  his 
advisers  had  given  him  bad  counsel;  at  any 
rate,  a  threat  by  King  James  on  the  Tweed 
would  make  it  impossible  for  Henry  to  attempt 
to  disturb  the  new-born  continental  peace. 

How  then  could  the  allies  get  at  James  ? 
They  must  send  a  suitable  envoy ;  and  yet  this 
must  be  an  obscure  person ;  no  man  of  noble 
rank  or  note  could  slip  unnoticed  through 
England ;  let  them  find  a  man  of  good  sense, 
ready  wit,  resource  and  discretion ;  let  him 
be  eloquent,  secretive,  resolute,  unscrupulous ; 
he  must  be  (as  Mr  Horsburgh  well  says  of 
Pius  II.)  one  "brilliant,  clever,  astute,  worldly, 
and  utterly  un- Christ-like,  he  must  face  a  service 
of  risk  fearlessly,  and  should  display  rather  the 
cunning  of  the  fox  than  any  more  generous 
qualities."  And  who  then  could  fulfil  these 
requirements   so   well   as   iEneas   Sylvius  ?     Here 


THE   QUALITIES   OF  .^NEAS  233 

was  a  young  man,  yearning  for  a  vocation  and 
to  see  the  world ;  one  who  knew  the  ways  of 
Courts,  was  a  ready  writer  and  speaker,  had 
courage  and  capacity,  and  yet,  as  he  held  no 
office  of  importance,  and,  as  he  came  with  no 
high-sounding  credentials,  would  not  attract  the 
attention  of  the  suspicious  English. 

His  first  plan  was  to  travel  through  England ; 
and,  to  prepare  the  way,  it  was  given  out  that 
an  envoy  was  being  sent  North  to  intercede 
with  James  I.  for  a  certain  Scottish  prelate, 
who  had  fallen  out  of  favour ;  it  was  also 
rumoured  that  there  was  a  noble  in  prison  in 
Scotland  whom  Mneas'  master,  Cardinal 
Albergata,  wanted  to  deliver  from  his  bonds. 
And  when  these  pretexts  had  been  duly  set 
floating,  the  young  secretary,  eager  to  see  new 
worlds  and  take  part  in  adventures  full  of  un- 
certain perils,  crossed  over  from  Calais  (where 
he  had  been  detained  for  some  time  by  the 
English  Governor)  to  Dover,  and  began  his 
travels  in  the  autumn  of  1435.  He  reached 
London  without  difficulty;  here,  however,  he 
was    stopped    by  the    vigilance    of    the    English 


234      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

king;  after  some  little  delay  he  was  refused  a 
safe-conduct,  and  was  told  that  no  one  would 
guarantee  him  or  give  him  any  help  on  his 
way.  He  was  in  the  end  obliged  to  return  to 
Dover  and  thence  to  Calais.  From  Calais  he 
hastened  on,  passing  through  the  old  entrepot 
of  Bruges,  to  the  famous  harbour  of  Sluys,  in 
those  days  the  most  crowded  port  in  the  western 
world.  Here  lay  a  ship  preparing  for  a  voyage 
to  Leith ;  he  took  passage  in  her.  It  was  wintry 
weather,  but  the  delicate  Italian  had  no  choice ; 
there  was  no  other  way  open  for  him.  No 
sooner  had  he  got  out  into  the  North  Sea  than 
a  strong  south-westerly  gale  caught  his  lumbering 
ship,  and  drove  her  helpless  northwards  towards 
the  Norse  coast.  Happily  for  him,  the  weather 
abated,  and  the  vessel  was  not  cast  away  on  the 
cruel  reefs,  which  fringe  the  whole  shore  of  Norway; 
a  change  of  wind  enabled  the  captain,  after  twelve 
days'  tossing  in  the  wintry  deep,  to  make  the  Firth 
of  Forth.  Here  ^neas  landed,  shaken  but  safe, 
in  I^eith  harbour.  During  the  stress  of  weather, 
he  had  vowed  a  pilgrimage  to  Our  Lady  at  the 
most  renowned  place  of  pilgrimage  in  the  East  of 


JENEAS   IN   SCOTLAND  '2S5 

Scotland,  and  this  he  found  to  be  at  Whitekirk, 
where   was  a  famous  statue  of  Our  Lady. 

This  "  Casa  Albula,"  a  common  name  enough 
in  the  North  for  a  stone-built  church,  still  stands 
in  Haddingtonshire,  near  the  sea-coast,  some 
twelve  miles  south-east  of  Edinburgh.  The 
late  Bishop  Creighton  described  it  to  me  in 
these  words  :  "  The  '  Ecclesia  quse  vocatur  Alba ' 
of  ^neas  is  Whitekirk.  It  is  a  splendid  old 
church,  with  a  stone  roof  rising  directly  from 
the  walls  without  any  string-course  to  mark  the 
difference,  no  aisles,  all  one  span."  For  this 
landmark  iEneas  set  off  barefoot,  over  snow  and 
ice,  and  so  fulfilled  his  vow  with  difficulty. 
For  when  he  reached  Whitekirk  his  tender  feet 
were  wounded  and  frozen  by  the  cold,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  return  to  Edinburgh  in  a  litter, 
suffering  badly ;  indeed,  he  always  attributed  to 
this  pilgrimage  the  infirmities  of  his  feet  through- 
out his  life.  It  certainly  was  one  of  the  argu- 
ments against  his  election  as  Pope  in  1458,  that 
he  was  a  cripple,  and  could  not  walk  straight, 
or  show  himself  with  dignity  in  grand  proces- 
sions and  ceremonies. 


236      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

As  soon  as  he  had  recovered  from  the  worst 
of  his  fatigues  by  sea  and  land,  iEneas  applied 
to  the  Scottish  Court  for  an  audience,  which 
seems  to  have  been  readily  granted.  There  re- 
mains still,  as  an  almost  contemporary  record  of 
this  journey,  one  of  the  famous  frescoes  by 
Pinturicchio  on  the  walls  of  the  Library  of 
Siena  Cathedral.  Unfortunately  for  historical 
truth,  this  fresco  is  not  to  be  trusted,  if  indeed 
it  represents  the  Scottish  scene  ;  there  never  was 
any  such  building  as  this  cinquecento  hall  of 
audience ;  no  such  landscape  meets  the  eye  as 
is  seen  through  the  arcade  as  a  background  to 
the  scene ;  no  such  city  towers  of  German  type 
have  ever  adorned  Edinburgh.  The  trees  are 
all  in  summer  leaf,  and  we  know  that  the 
meeting  took  place  in  the  coldest  time  of 
winter;  the  Court  is  sitting  or  standing  in 
the  open  air,  whereas,  I  fear,  they  were  in  a 
stuffy  room,  carefully  sealed  up  without  a  breath 
of  air.  Still  more  difficult  it  is  to  believe  that 
the  personages  depicted  were  in  any  case  such 
as  one  would  have  seen  round  the  wild  court 
of  a   Scottish   king.      There   are   no  kilts,   there 


^neas  Picculuiuini;  Aiuljassadui'  lu  llic  J\ing-  of  Seullaiid  J'inturirchio). 

iTo  face  ix(fj<'  23G, 


^NEAS  HAS   AUDIENCE   WITH  JAMES   I.  237 

is  no  sign  of  a  Scots  plaid ;  the  Court  is 
combed  and  fine,  there's  not  a  bare  leg  any- 
where. And,  lastly,  iEneas  stands,  taller  than 
the  average  of  his  hearers,  addressing  the  king, 
and  we  know  that  he  had  the  hereditary  short- 
ness of  stature  of  the  Piccolomini — he  tells  us 
so  himself;  and  the  monarch  seated  on  his 
throne  is  no  portrait,  only  an  old  greybeard 
of  sixty  years.  It  is,  however,  contended  that 
the  picture  represents  not  the  Edinburgh 
audience,  but  the  appearance  of  iEneas  before 
the  Council  of  Basle  on  his  return ;  in  which 
case  the  landscape  would  be  a  view  of  the  Rhine 
just  above  Basle.  The  figure  on  the  throne  is 
very  puzzling,  whichever  view  is  right. 

The  upshot  of  his  embassy,  if  we  may  believe 
iEneas'  account  of  it,  was  such  a  success  as 
diplomatic  affairs  are  usually  claimed  to  be.  He 
declares  that  his  mission  had  been  perfectly  suc- 
cessful, that  the  bishop  in  disgrace  had  been 
taken  back  into  favour,  and  the  man  who  had 
been  robbed  and  imprisoned  had  had  justice  done 
to  him.  These  were  the  two  original  pretexts ; 
but  the   real    business   of  tlie  embassage  was  "to 


238      NORTH    IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

solicit  (as  Campanus  writes  in  his  life  of  Pope 
Pius)  the  king  against  those  '  citerior  Britons ' 
{i.e.  the  English)  who  were  opposed  to  peace," 
which  fine  words  meant  that  iEneas  was  to  stir 
up  strife,  in  order  to  keep  Henry  VI.  amused, 
and  so  to  prevent  him  from  breaking  up  the 
Franco- Burgundian  compact  of  Arras.  This  they 
called  a  movement  on  behalf  of  peace ;  a  direct 
incitement  to  war  it  was.  King  James'  advisers 
gave  him  wise  advice.  His  reply  to  iEneas  was 
that  in  fact  he  refused  the  quasi-alliance  with 
France  and  would  stir  up  no  bad  blood.  Like 
his  descendant,  James  VI.,  he  would  not  fight 
if  he  could  be  neutral ;  instead  of  mustering  the 
clans  on  the  Northumbrian  border,  he  offered 
to  enter  into  alliance  with  both  the  contracting 
parties  of  Arras,  with  a  view  to  the  permanent 
preservation  of  peace.  And  so  far  Henry  VI. 
escaped  the  penalty  due  to  his  folly  in  refusing 
the  terms  offered  him  in  1435. 

This  eminently  sensible  and  prosaic  view  of 
the  irritable  situation  did  not  suit  our  young 
ambassador :  he  made  ready  to  return  to  the 
mainland ;  his   pocket  was    full — for   the    Scottish 


HE   DESCRIBES   SCOTLAND  239 

king  was  liberal  of  gifts ;  he  was  eager  to  escape 
from  this  hard  northern  climate. 

Happily,  ^Eneas  was  not  so  deeply  engrossed 
in  vain  diplomacy  as  to  neglect  the  use  of  his 
eyes ;  he  has,  in  his  interesting  "  Cosmographia," 
the  first  intelligent  modern  work  on  geography, 
left  us  an  account  of  his  impression  of  these 
"further  Britons,"  these  fifteenth-century  Scots. 
He  describes  Scotland  as  a  cold  and  treeless 
land,  the  towns  as  mean  and  unwalled,  the 
houses  mud-built,  without  mortar,  and  roofed 
with  turf,  while  their  doors  were  boa^  is  clad  in 
oxhide.  The  inhabitants  were  poor  and  rough 
in  appearance,  the  men  small  of  stature,  though 
brave ;  the  women  were  light  in  colour,  fair  of 
face,  comely,  blue-eyed,  with  flaxen  hair,  slight 
of  build,  and  fragile  in  form  and  character.  He 
noted  the  shivery  clothing  of  the  men,  their 
unkempt  look,  as  of  wild  creatures,  caught  and 
half- tamed.  He  was  amazed  by  the  daily  life 
led  by  both  sexes  in  common ;  and  he  duly 
remarks  on  the  difference  in  language  between 
Lowlander  and  Highlander.  He  also  informs 
us    that    the   wild    Highlander   subsisted   on    tlie 


240      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

bark  of  trees.  Their  winter  daylight  lasted  but 
a  little  over  three  hours,  and  the  weather  was 
always  keen.  There  is  a  curious  remark  which 
I  must  quote  in  his  words. 

"When,"  he  says,  "the  poor,  half-naked 
creatures  came  up  to  the  churches  to  beg  for 
bread,  people  (in  defiance  of  the  Biblical  pre- 
cept) gave  them  a  stone  instead  of  a  loaf  But 
the  poor  things  accepted  it  with  joy,  and  went 
off  with  thanks ;  for  in  that  country  they  have 
a  curious  kind  of  sulphurous  stone  which,  as 
they  have  no  wood  in  that  land,  they  burn 
instead." 

This  shows  that  the  Lothian  pits  were  in  work- 
ing nearly  five  centuries  ago,  and  that  the  Italian 
apparently  had  never  seen  coal  before.  Finally, 
MnesLS  closes  his  remarks  with  the  statement 
"that  the  greatest  pleasure  of  the  Scots  is  to 
abuse  the  English." 

It  would  not  be  fair,  after  praising  the  modern 
spirit  of  our  envoy,  to  omit  his  mediaeval  descrip- 
tion of  the  Barnacle  goose. 

While  still  in  Edinburgh,  he  had  projected  a 
visit  to  the  Orkney  Islands — though,  when  he 
reflected   on   the   wild  journey   among   the    rude 


THE   BARNACLE   GOOSE  241 

natives,  and  the  angry  winter  sea,  his  courage 
failed  him,  and  he  went  no  further  north  than 
the  capital.  His  curiosity  had  made  him  anxious 
to  see  a  wonderful  tree,  which,  he  was  assured, 
could  be  seen  only  in  the  Orkneys — 

"  We  had  heard  long  ago  that  there  could  be 
seen  in  Scotland  a  tree,  which,  springing  up  over 
the  river's  bank,  produces  fruit  in  the  form  of  ducks 
{anetarum  formami  hahentes),  and  that  these  when 
they  grow  ripe,  fall  off  of  themselves  from  the 
tree :  of  these  some  drop  on  dry  land,  some  into 
the  water ;  the  unlucky  ones  dropped  on  land  die 
and  stink ;  those  plunged  in  the  water  soon  show 
Ufe,  and  swim  about  under  the  water,  till  their 
wings  and  feathers  grow  strong  enough  to  let 
them  fly  abroad  in  the  air."  ^ 

This  admirable  phenomenon  is  figured  in  one 
least  of  the  early  herbals,  where  one  sees  some 
spoiled  and  smashed  little  ducks  dead  on  the 
shore,  and  others  gaily  swimming  in  the  stream. 

Though  yEneas  had  failed  in  his  effort  to  stir 
up  strife  between  neighbours,  we  certainly  owe 
him  thanks  for  a  very  vivid  picture  of  these  islands, 
as  seen  for  the  first  time  by  an  intelligent  modern 
traveller.  Voigt,  in  his  painstaking  life  of  Pius  IT., 
^  ^ucas  Sylvius,  "Cosmographia,"  vol.  ii.  cap.  46. 


U^      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

does  not  hesitate  to  say  that  "many  a  touch  re- 
minds one  of  the  strong  and  true  pictures  of  the 
North   which   we   have   from   Sir   Walter   Scott's 
hand."       These,    the    impressions    chiefly    of    his 
journey  back  from  Scotland  to  Dover,  are  found 
almost    entirely  in   the   envoy's   "Commentaries." 
This  account  we  owe  to  his  vivid  remembrance  of 
the  misery  of  the  long  sea-voyage.     The  captain 
of  his  ship,  who  seems  to  have  waited  for  him  in 
Leith  harbour,  hoping  for  his  company  on  the  way 
back,  begged  him  to  entrust   himself  once  more 
aboard,   and   assured   him   of  safety — the  captain 
himself,  poor  fellow,  was  going  to  make  all  speed 
on  his  return,  and  would  take  no  needless  risks, 
because  he  was  looking  forward  to  being  married, 
if  all  went  well.     iEneas,  fortunately  for  him,  could 
not  pluck  up  courage  again  to  face  the  North  Sea. 
And  besides  this,  he  had  done  all  he  could  at  the 
Scottish  Court,  and  the  English  would  now  have 
no  excuse  for  detaining  him.     So  he  would,  with 
money  to  spare,  enjoy  the  sight  of  England,  which 
he  might  never  be  able  to  visit  again,  and  there- 
fore bade  his  shipmates  farewell.     He  tells  us  that 
he  stood  on  a  hill  to  see  the  vessel  set  forth ;  and 


HIS  JOURNEY   SOUTHWARDS  243 

while  it  was  still  in  the  Firth  of  Forth,  even 
before  his  eyes,  it  was  caught  by  a  sudden  storm, 
and  dashed  on  the  rocks.  The  ship  sank ;  only 
four  of  the  sailors  struggled  ashore ;  the  poor 
damsel,  who  was  awaiting  the  return  of  the  captain, 
saw  him  no  more,  for  he  too  was  among  the 
drowned. 

With  a  thankful  heart  iEneas  now  set  out  on 
the  southern  journey.  As  far  as  the  border  all  was 
easy.  He  had  disguised  himself  as  a  merchant, 
with  three  servants  at  his  heels ;  and  no  doubt 
travelled  with  a  safe-conduct  from  the  Scottish 
Court.  When,  however,  he  had  crossed  the 
bonny  Tweed,  he  entered  into  a  troubled  and 
harried  country.  The  rich  and  prosperous  North- 
umberland of  to-day  would  not  recognise  the 
unculti\'ated  and  rude  lands,  in  which  every  house 
had  a  peel  tower,  and  where  men  wrought,  or 
tended  tlieir  cattle,  with  sword  at  their  side.  No 
one  knew  when  some  reiving  Scot  or  ill-disposed 
neighbour  might  come  on  them.  Into  this 
country  ^^neas  now  penetrated. 

"  Towards  evening,"  he  tells  us,  "  after  he  had 
crossed  the   boundary   river — the   Tweed — /Eneas 


244      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

found  himself,  with  but  a  scanty  retinue,  and  with 
none  of  the  protection  of  an  ambassador,  at  a  large 
open  village  of  this  rude,  uncultivated  world. 
Here  there  was  no  inn,  but  the  countiy  folk  were 
friendly  and  found  him  quarters  in  a  farm-house. 
He  was  hungry,  and  they  busied  themselves  to 
provide  a  meal.  They  had  neither  white  bread  nor 
wine,  so  that  a  messenger  had  to  be  despatched  to 
the  nearest  monastery  to  obtain  these  rare 
delicacies.  Other  food  was  plentiful ;  there  was 
no  lack  of  vegetables,  of  poultry  and  geese ;  and 
hospitable  preparations  went  on  merrily.  The 
news  of  travellers  spread  through  the  place ;  all 
the  women,  curious  to  see  the  stranger,  crowded 
round,  and  stared  at  him  as  if  he  had  been  an 
Ethiopian  or  an  Indian.  The  parish  priest,  who 
had  been  invited  to  come  in  and  sup  with  the 
traveller  and  to  act  as  interpreter,  through  the 
inedium  of  his  small  acquirements  in  I^atin,  was 
besieged  by  his  people  for  information.  Who  was 
it  ?  Where  had  he  come  from  ?  What  did  he 
want  ?  Was  he  a  Christian  or  a  heathen  ?  Their 
curiosity  invaded  tlie  table  even.  iEneas  had  to 
give  them  a  taste  of  his  white  bread :  they  had 
never  had  such  a  chance  before ;  to  each  a  sip  of 
wine :  no  such  fare  had  ever  been  theirs !  And 
so  the  feast  went  on,  with  clumsy  conversation, 
and  time  no  object.  It  w^as  not  till  two  in 
the  morning  that  the  priest  gave  the  sign  for 
breaking  up  the  entertainment.  Then  the  men  all 
rose,  with  the  priest  at  their  head,  to  bid  farewell. 
They    prayed    ^Eneas    to    come    with    them ;  he 


IN   NORTHUMBERLAND  245 

would  be  safer  with  them,  for  they  were  going  to 
shut  themselves  up  in  a  peel  tower,  for  fear  of  the 
Scots.  But  iEneas  was  content  to  stay  with  the 
rest  of  the  company,  being  mostly  the  women  of 
the  party,  several  of  them  comely  young  lasses  ;  he 
liked  their  company,  and  doubtless  thought  that 
where  they  were  there  would  not  be  much  risk." 

So  there,  in  some  barn  or  farmer's  "  lathe," 
they  settled  down  for  the  night ;  and  all  was  quiet 
for  a  while.  Presently,  however,  the  dogs  began 
barking  angrily,  and  geese  cried  ;  all  was  in  up- 
roar in  a  moment,  the  women  screamed,  rushed 
out,  and  disappeared  in  the  darkness.  ^Eneas 
himself  with  his  followers  hid  in  a  stable.  After 
a  bit  some  of  the  women  came  back  and  told 
him  that  it  was  no  band  of  Scot  reivers,  only 
a  party  of  their  own  people  returning;  and  so 
they  settled  down  again,  and  got  such  sleep  as 
they  might. 

In  the  morning,  the  party  set  out  for 
Newcastle ;  and  after  a  long  journey  through 
Northumberland  they  discerned  the  walls  and 
church  towers  of  the  town ;  here,  as  he  says, 
he  felt  that  civilisation  began  again :  he  saw 
the     ancient    castle,    "  the    grand     tower    which 


246      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

Caesar  had  built "  he  calls  it ;  and  the  broad 
river  with  the  keels  plying  up  and  down,  using 
the  tides  in  their  season.  AVhen  ^neas  had 
first  been  in  London  he  specially  noticed  that 
in  the  Thames  the  water  "  ran  up  hill,"  not 
towards  the  sea !  It  was  a  marvel  to  an 
untravelled  man,  who  knew  only  the  tideless, 
or  almost  tideless,  Mediterranean ;  he  does  not 
notice  the  same  thing  on  the  Tyne.  At 
Newcastle  he  took  a  short  rest,  then  crossed 
the   river,   and   made   his   way   to   Durham. 

Robert  Hegge,  writing  in  the  earlier  part  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  describes  Durham  by 
saying  that  "he  that  hath  scene  the  situation 
of  this  citty  hath  scene  the  map  of  Sion,  and 
may  save  a  journey  to  Jerusalem "  ;  the  treeless 
rocks,  hard  and  grand,  on  which  the  noble 
buildings  stand,  with  cathedral  and  castle  rising 
over  against  each  other,  just  like  the  temple 
and  the  Roman  castle  at  Jerusalem  with  the 
mountains  again  encircling  the  whole  city,  even 
as  "  the  hills  stand  about  Jerusalem,"  and  the 
Wear  taking  the  place  of  the  valley  of  the  brook 
Kidron ! — here    was     a     curious     and    interesting 


AT   DURHAM  247 

parallel.  To  this  splendid  pile  JEneas  drew  near 
by  the  north  road.  He  passed  the  handsome 
"  Neville's  Cross "  which  had  been  set  up  after 
the  battle  of  1346  against  the  Scots;  the  name 
now  given  to  the  battle  seems  to  have  been  an 
afterthought.  He  had  already  crossed  the  stream 
called  the  Browney,  by  the  llelley  bridge,  under 
which  poor  King  David  had  bootlessly  hidden 
himself  in  the  rout  of  that  disastrous  day. 
Then  iEneas  descended  through  the  deep  "  peth," 
as  such  glens  are  still  called  in  Durham  county, 
and  passing  through  Crossgate  reached  the 
Framwellgate  Bridge  over  the  Wear,  standing 
between  the  two  weirs  which  drove  the  Abbey 
mill  and  the  town  mill ;  then  he  climbed  the 
hill  to  the  market-place,  and  along  the  North 
Bailey,  till  he  reached  the  great  gate  leading 
into  the  precincts  of  the  Benedictine  House. 
Here  he  was  duly  directed  by  the  gate  porter 
to  the  Guest  House  of  the  monastery,  a  building 
still  standing  and  overlooking  the  river.  Though 
the  genteel  taste  of  the  eighteenth  century  has 
given  this  house  a  modern  front,  castellated 
stucco,    and     sham    battlements,   it    still   has    in 


248      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

it  the  ancient  chambers  in  which  the  guests 
assembled,  just  as  they  were  when  ^neas  Sylvius 
rested  there,  and  was  fed  and  lodged  for  several 
days  at  the  charges  of  the  convent.  The  guest- 
house food  was  cooked  in  the  magnificent  kitchen, 
now  the  kitchen  of  the  Deanery ;  in  those  days 
it  had  but  lately  been  erected,  having  been 
built  by  the  monastery  nearly  a  century  before ; 
it  is  still  in  use,  and  is,  I  believe,  the  only  old 
monastic  kitchen  still  remaining  in  England.  In 
those  days  it  cooked  the  food  for  the  whole 
establishment,  the  Prior,  the  monks,  the  servants 
and  dependents,  as  well  as  the  numerous  strangers 
who  from  time  to  time  claimed  the  hospitality 
of  the   convent. 

The  Guest  House  is  described  in  that  most 
interesting  book,  the  "  Rites  of  Durham," 
written  some  time  after  the  beginning  of  the 
Reformation  with  a  view  of  describing,  for 
those  whose  eyes  looked  longingly  back  on  the 
old  ways,  the  manner  of  life  in  a  large  monastery. 

"This  was  a  famouse  house  of  hospitallitie, 
called  the  Geste  Haule,  within  the  Abbey  garth 
on  the  weste  syde,  towardes  the  water,  the  Terrer 


THE   GUEST   HALL   AT   DURHAM       249 

of  the  house  being  master  thereof,  as  one  appoynted 
to  geve  intertaynment  to  all  staits,  both  noble, 
gentle,  and  what  degree  so  ever  that  came  thether 
as  strangers,  ther  intertaynment  not  being  inferior 
to  any  place  in  Ingland,  both  for  the  goodnes 
of  ther  diett,  the  sweete  and  daintie  furneture 
of  ther  lodging,  and  generally  all  things  necessarie 
for  traveillers.  .  .  .  The  victualls  that  served 
the  said  geists  came  from  the  great  kitching  of 
the  Prior,  the  bread  and  beare  from  his  pantrie 
and  seller.  Yf  they  weare  of  honour  they  weare 
served  as  honorably  as  the  Prior  himselfe,  other- 
wise, according  to  their  severall  callinges  .  .  . 
for  ther  better  intertaynment  he  had  evermore 
a  hogsheade  or  two  of  wynes  lying  in  a  seller 
appertayninge  to  the  said  halle,  to  serve  his  geists 
withall."^ 

While  thus  lodged  in  the  College,  ^neas 
was  taken  to  see  all  matters  of  interest.  It  is 
worth  noticing  that  he  appears  to  have  had 
some  previous  knowledge  of  Bede,  for  he  tetls 
us  that  he  went  to  see  his  tomb,  lying  then, 
as  now,  in  the  Galilee;  on  the  other  hand, 
there  is  no  sign  that  he  had  ever  heard  of  or 
cared  for  St  Cuthbert,  whose  shrine  was  then 
magnificent  with  pious  gifts,  being  still  the  aim  of 
all  devout  pilgrims ;  for  Cuthbert  had  no  literary 
^  "Kites  of  Durham,"  Surtees  Society,  chap,  xlvii. 


250      NORTH   IN  FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

fame ;   he  was  but   a  wonder-working  saint,  one 
of  a  roll   of  men   who   had    been   a  fine   source 
of  income    to    monasteries   throughout   England. 
This   type    of    Saint   was,   in   a    sense,   a    manu- 
facture  of  the    early   Benedictines,   in   the   tenth 
and  eleventh  century ;  but  now,  under  the  effect 
of  the  new  lights,  those  freshly-discovered  classical 
gems,    on    which     the    eyes    of    all    who    were 
advanced   persons   in   the   fifteenth   century   were 
fastened,   and    by   which    they   all   were   dazzled, 
these   saints   had    paled   sadly,   and   were   treated 
with    neglect.      An    eloquent    testimony   to    the 
downfall   of    their  repute    is    found   in    the   way 
in  which  the  receipts  of  their  special  exchequers 
fell   off  all    through    this    period.      And    ^Eneas 
was,  above  all  things,  a  downright  modern  man, 
full  of  warm  literary  enthusiasms.     No  doubt  he 
had  had  in  his  hands  Bede's  "  Historia  Anglorum," 
the  first  true   bit   of  English   history ;    and   this 
interested  him   when    he   came  to   Durham.     St 
Cuthbert,   who   had   no   gift  of  the   pen,  was  to 
him  only  one  of  a  common  crowd  of  convenient 
thaumaturges,  useful   in  keeping  the   machine  of 
conventual  life  going. 


HE   TASSES   THROUGH   ENGLAND       251 

Here  then,  in  ancient  Durham,  ^neas  took 
grateful  rest,  and  probably  with  rekictance  set 
forth  once  more  on  the  south  road,  through 
Darhngton  to  York.  At  York  he  came  across 
one  of  the  itinerant  judges,  and  his  old  law- 
training  having  qualified  him  to  talk  agreeably  to 
a  lawyer,  and  his  Latinity  being  a  perpetual 
recommendation,  he  was  allowed  to  attach  him- 
self to  the  great  man's  suite.  With  so  safe  an 
escort,  he  made  his  way  southward  without 
incident.  His  native  subtilty  led  him  to  be 
very  agi-eeable ;  nor  did  he  ever  dream  of  com- 
mitting himself,  as  when  his  patron  the  judge,  as 
talk  turned  on  the  late  proceedings  at  Basle, 
called  iEneas'  master,  the  Cardinal  di  Santa 
Croce,  a  "wolf  in  sheep's  clothing."  Little  did 
the  straightforward  Englishman  dream  that  he 
had  by  his  side,  in  the  "  sheep's  clothing "  of 
a  merchant-man,  a  very  cunning  and  dangerous 
fox. 

The  judge's  escort  served  him  well  as  far 
as  London ;  there  the  handsome  young  Italian 
had  to  consider  how  he  might  get  out  of 
England  safel}'.     Here,  liowever,  came  a   serious 


252      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

difficulty.  The  Government  of  Henry  VI.  had 
lately  issued  a  fresh  order,  with  strict  command, 
that  no  foreigner  might  leave  the  country  with- 
out a  special  permit — should  he  then  apply  for 
leave,  with  the  possibility  that  the  Court  might 
actually  be  on  the  look-out  for  him,  and  might 
have  heard  of  his  proceedings  at  Edinburgh  ? 
In  that  case  he  would  be  refused  his  permit, 
and  might  be  put  in  durance.  Anyhow,  he  would 
have  had  to  make  explanations — he,  the  young 
Italian  envoy,  masquerading  through  England 
in  a  merchant's  robe,  no  doubt  personating  one 
of  the  agents  of  those  wine  merchants  of  Italy, 
who  just  then  were  driving  a  capital  trade  in 
English  monasteries  and  cities. 

On  consideration  of  all  this  he  decided  to 
take  his  risks  on  himself  He  still  had  a  good 
balance  of  gold  in  his  wallet.  ^' Aurum  per 
medios  ire  satellites "  he  doubtless  said  to  him- 
self— Horace  was  well  known  to  the  cinquecento 
people — and  he  quietly  continued  his  journey. 
In  the  account  of  his  first  attempt,  at  the  end 
of  the  year  before,  he  has  given  us  a  graphic 
account   of  his   earlier  journey   to   London   from 


HE   RETURNS  TO   BASLE  253 

Dover ;  but  our  task  is  to  describe  his  visit 
to  the  North,  and  not  his  sight  of  Thames 
river  running  up  hill,  and  London  "•  Bridge  like 
a  city " ;  and  the  men  of  Stroud  said  to  be 
blessed  with  tails,  and  St  Thomas'  shrine  decked 
with  marvellous  splendours  at  Canterbury.  It 
is  enough  to  say  that  with  judicious  and  liberal 
bribes,  he  unlocked  the  harbour  gates,  and  sailed 
away  to  sunny  France.  From  Calais,  where 
he  landed,  he  travelled  direct  to  Basle,  where 
the  Council  was  still  sitting,  and  gave  them 
his  report. 

His  later  life  interests  the  North  in  no  way. 
From  1436  the  flexible  Secretary  threaded  his 
fortuitous  way  through  the  tangled  mess  of 
European  politics,  first  as  a  layman  attached 
to  Amadeus  of  Savoy,  the  Conciliar  Pope 
Felix  y. ;  then  he  hung  on  to  the  German 
Court  and  became  Secretary  and  I'oet  Laureate  to 
"Frederick  the  Caesar"  in  1442.  Frederick  was 
posing  as  a  member  of  the  "  neutral  party " ; 
the  head  of  the  Holy  lloman  Empire  could 
well  take  this  commanding  position.  As  envoy 
of  Frederick  he  presently  got   himself  reconciled 


254      NORTH   IN   FIFTEENTH   CENTURY 

to  the  Italian  Curia.  Pope  Eugenius  sagaciously 
shut  his  eyes  to  the  past,  and  treated  JEneas  as 
a  valuable  envoy  and  tool.  At  the  end  of 
1456,  Calixtus  III.,  who  was  the  founder  of 
the  splendidly  lurid  race  of  the  Borgia  Popes, 
named  him  a  Cardinal,  and  in  1458  he  became 
Pope,  becoming  "pius  iEneas,"  after  the  fashion 
of  the  time,  as  Pope  Pius  II.  And  finally  on 
18th  June,  1464,  he  took  the  cross  at  St 
Peter's,  as  he  himself  says,  "an  aged  man,  with 
head  of  snow  and  trembling  limbs,"  though  in 
truth  he  was  only  fifty-nine  years  old,  and  in 
August  of  that  same  year,  died  at  Ancona.  A 
life,  which  had  been  full  of  meannesses,  active, 
clever,  and  dishonest,  was  over.  The  halo  of  a 
great  emprise  touches  all  with  splendid  light, 
and  ditches  and  fens  look  golden  in  such  a 
setting  sun. 


Vll 

DANTE   AND    VIRGIL 

I  HOLD  it  a  high  honour  to  be  asked  to  open 
this  course  of  study  in  the  Divina  Commedia. 
It  is  something  to  be  called  on  to  sound  the 
depths  of  Dante's  genius,  and  to  win  inspiration 
from  his  words. 

The  common-sense  of  the  eighteenth  century 
could  take  no  pleasure  in  Dante.  Voltaire  had 
a  cheap  sarcasm  for  him :  "  The  reputation  of 
Dante  will  steadily  grow  —  parce  qu'on  ne  le 
lit  gueres."  And  we  at  the  opening  of  the 
twentieth  century  reply  that  we  at  least  will  not 
pretend  to  admire  what  we  have  not  read,  any 
more  than  we  will  commit  the  crime,  so  common 
in  the  theological  world,  of  criticising  and  con- 
demning  books   of  which    all    we    know    is   that 

255 


256  DANTE   AND  VIRGIL 

some    religious    joui-nal    has    told     us    they    are 
shocking. 

Nothing  perhaps  shows  us  better  the  tone 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  than  a  passage  in 
Goethe's  Italienische  Reise,  in  which  he  tells 
us  that  at  Assisi  he  and  his  friend  were  so 
busy  studying  some  bits  of  ruined  Latin  classical 
work,  that  they  had  no  time  to  pay  attention 
to  Giotto,  or  the  other  Italian  glories  of  the 
place.  The  Roman  work  was  correct  and 
according  to  rule ;  the  Italian  art  seemed 
barbarous  to  them.  Goethe  himself  compared 
Dante  with  Milton,  condemning  both ;  and 
Horace  Walpole  says  of  Dante  that  he  was 
"  a  A¥esleyan  parson  in  Bedlam." 

Mr  C.  L.  Shad  well,  in  his  fine  translation 
of  the  Purgatorio,  tells  us  that  Dante  had 
qualities  which  repelled  that  century,  while  they 
attract  our  age.  This  is  singularly  true :  "To 
the  age  of  Samuel  Johnson  abstraction,  general- 
isation, seemed  to  be  of  the  essence  of  art  and 
poetry;  the  taste  of  our  day  has  reversed  this 
in  favour  of  that  circumstantial  manner  of 
which     every    canto     could     afford    illustration." 


DAWN   OF   RENAISSANCE  257 

And  hence  springs  a  hope  that  we  may  be 
allowed  by  our  masters  the  critics  to  approach 
with  marvel  and  reverence  the  difficulties  and 
the  amazing  beauties  of  the  Divina  Commedia. 

It   is   a   fine    phrase    of   Professor    Villari,   in 
which  he  says,  that 

"  We  stand  at  the  moment  —  the  moment  of 
the  composing  of  the  Commedia — at  which  not 
only  an  Art,  a  liiterature,  and  a  New  Society 
begins ;  it  is  a  moment  in  which  the  old  medieval 
world  is  going,  and  decomposing,  while  a  new 
world,  that  of  the  Renaissance,  begins  to  fall  into 
shape.  And  in  the  midst  of  these  great  move- 
ments rises  the  giant  form  of  Dante,  who  com- 
mands all  our  attention,  and  sheds  a  marvellous 
light  over  all  the  world  around."^ 

For  at  this  moment  "  meet  all  the  elements 
that  compose  an  age,  in  which  one  society  is 
dying,  while  another  appears  and  takes  shape.' 
"  But  while  from  such  a  conflict  an  immortal 
Poem  could,  and  did  emerge,  no  practical  system 
of  politics   did,  nor   could   be  born  in  it."  -     For 

1  P.  Villari,  "Prime  due  Secoli,"  vol.  ii.  113,  of  his  "History 
of  Florence,"  1894. 

2  Villari,  vol.  ii.  179. 

R 


258  DANTE   AND   VIRGIL 

here  collides  the  local  society  with  the  eternal 
elements. 

It  was  largely  out  of  the  strifes,  the  un- 
worthy and  selfish  strifes,  of  Cities  and  Nobles 
that  this  great  Poem  sprang.  The  independence 
of  each  town,  joined  with  the  turbulence  of  a 
second-rate  feudalism,  clashed  with  the  dying 
tradition  of  the  Csesars,  and  the  corrupted  con- 
dition of  the  imperial  Papacy,  now  going  down 
into  a  "Babylonian  Captivity"  at  Avignon. 
"  From  the  midst  of  this  conflict  in  his  soul  sprang 
the  Divina  Commedia,  in  which  two  worlds  are 
face  to  face,  yea,  even  in  actual  conflict ;  while  a 
new  spirit  passes  over  the  chaos,  reviving  the  past, 
and  transforming  it,  until  it  can  give  birth  to  the 
brilliant  future,  the  new  age  of  Art  and  Letters."^ 

Dante  lived  through  the  worst  of  this 
turmoil,  and,  to  our  mind,  took  the  wrong  side. 
He  was  on  the  side  of  the  Foreign  Power;  he 
was  against  the  development  of  the  Italian 
People ;  he  was  specially  hostile  to  any  notion 
of  a  National  life;  he  hung  on  to  Princes  and 
Courts;   he   hoped   for  a  cataclysm  which  might 

1  Villari,  ii.  179. 


CAN   GRANDE   DELLA   SCALA  259 

restore  the  dying  Empire,  and  give  the  GhibelHnes 
their  triumph,  and  withal  bring  him,  the  exile, 
back  to  his  beloved  Florence. 

And  if  we  regard  the  poet  in  this  attitude, 
there  is  perhaps  no  stranger  prophecy  than 
that  with  which  he  opens  his  great  work : 

"...  infill  die  il  Veltro 
Verril,  che  la  fara  morir  con  doglia. 
Questi  lion  ciber^  terra  n^  peltro, 
Ma  sapienza  e  araore  e  virtute, 
E  sua  nazion  sar5,  tra  Feltro  e  Feltro."  ^ 

Benvenuto  da  Imola  declares  that  in  these 
lines  the  greyhound  is  Jesus  Christ,  wlio  alone 
could  resist  the  wolf  of  Rome ;  he  tells  us  that 
his  home — his  rule — is  between  Feltro  e  Feltro, 
that  is,  "  inter  coelum  et  terram  ! "  or,  as  he  puts  it 
elsewhere,  "  inter  coelum  et  coelum,"  the  heavens 
above  and  the  heavens  below  the  firmament. 

In  all  this  he  does  but  ignore  the  obvious. 
The  "Dog"  is  Can  Grande  della  Scala,  the  head 
of  the  great  house  of  the  Scaligers,  who  ruled 
in  Verona  from  1312  to  1329,  "with  a  splen- 
dour  surpassing   all    Italian    Princes.     Brave   and 

^  Inferno,  c.  i.  lUl. 


260  DANTE   AND   VIRGIL 

fortunate  in  war,  wise  in  council,  he  gained  a 
name  for  generosity,  even  for  probity."  He 
gave  Dante  an  asylum,  and  was  the  greatest 
of  the  later  Ghibellines ;  he  died,  however,  at 
the  age  of  forty-one,  fulfilling  none  of  Dante's 
courtier  prophecies.  The  real  meaning  of  "tra 
Feltro  e  Feltro"  is  that  at  that  time  Verona 
ruled  from  Feltro  in  the  North,  on  the  south 
slopes  of  the  Alps,  to  another  Feltro  in  the 
South,  not  far  from  Urbino  in  the  Romagna. 

The  truth  is  that  Dante  was  no  prophet  of 
the  future.  He  is  throughout  mediaeval,  orthodox  ; 
he  expresses  the  embodiment  of  the  very  spirit 
of  the  Middle  Ages.  Even  when  he  transgresses 
into  the  earlier  worlds  he  does  so  with  an 
apology ;  when  he  brings  in  Trajan,  or  Ripheus, 
or  Cato,  or  Virgil,  or  Statins,  he  does  it  with 
an  assurance  that  they  either  were,  or  were  to 
be,  saved  souls. 

And  this  makes  it  needful  for  us  to  ask  why  at 
the  outset  Dante  chose  Virgil  as  guide  and  leader 
in  the  darker  world  ?  Why  the  Roman  Poet,  and 
not  some  heaven-sent  Angel,  as  Milton  would  have 
feigned,  to  be  his  friend  and  bright  protector  ? 


VIRGIL   AND   STATIUS  261 

This  is  the  subject  of  my  address.  Dante, 
as  all  allow,  is  a  poet  of  the  fullest  individuality ; 
no  Epic  writer  comes  near  him  in  this  aspect; 
he  dominates  the  whole  scene ;  in  no  other  Epic 
does  the  creator  of  the  poem  move  personally 
throughout  the  whole  action  as  he  does.  How 
then  comes  he  to  turn  to  V^irgil  as  friend  and 
master  ?  Virgil  was  never  a  Christian ;  they  did 
not  even  traditionally  feign  that,  as  the  mediaeval 
writers  made  Statins  to  be,  he  was  a  baptised 
Christian;  and  yet  it  is  made  out  that  through 
Virgil's  influence  Statins  was  converted. 

"  Per  te  poeta  fui,  per  te  cristiano,"  he 
says,  in  the  fine  passage  in  which  he  describes 
the     power     of     Virgil     over     his     soul.^     True, 

Statins    was    a   contemporary   of    St  John,  while 

^  ".  .  .  Tu  prima  in'inviasti 
Verso  Parnaso,  a  ber  nelle  sue  grotte, 
E  poi,  appresso  Dio,  m'alluminasti. 

Facesti  come  quei  die  va  di  notte, 
Che  porta  il  lume  retro,  et  s^  non  giova, 
Ma  dopo  &b  fa  le  persone  dotte, 

Quando  dicesti  :  Secol  si  rinnuova, 
Torna  giustizia,  e  primo  tempo  umano, 
E  progenie  discende  dal  ciel  nuova. 
Per  te  poeta  fui,  per  te  cristiano." 

— Purgatorio,  xxii.  64. 


262  DANTE   AND   VIRGIL 

Virgil  was  dead  ere  Christ  was  come.  He  was, 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  claimed  as  a  quasi-Christian 
by  a  special  revelation  from  the  Sibyl. 

In  Dante's  days  Virgil  oscillates  between  the 
noblest  part  of  a  Prophet,  of  an  inspired  fore- 
runner of  Christ,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
base  part  of  a  Conjurer,  a  dabbler  in  the  black 
arts. 

*'  Virgil,"  says  George  Long,^  "  was  the  great 
poet  of  the  Middle  Ages.  To  him  Dante  paid  the 
homage  of  his  superior  genius,  and  owned  him  for 
his  master  and  his  model.  Among  the  vulgar  he 
had  the  reputation  of  a  Conjuror,  a  Necromancer, 
a  worker  of  miracles ;  it  is  the  fate  of  a  great 
name  to  be  embalmed  in  fable." 

This  vulgar  repute  of  him  seems  to  have 
been  unknown  to  Dante,  unless  perhaps  there  is 
a  reference  to  magical  gifts  when  he  makes  the 
Latin  Poet  describe  himself  as  having  gone 
before  those  days  into  the  unknown  world,  and 
as  having  there  had  converse  with  Erichtho,^  in 

^  "  Smith's  Diet,  of  Greek  and  Roman  Biography,"  s.v.  Virgil. 

-  Erichtho,  or  Eriton,  was  a  Thessalian  sorceress  who 
(Lucan,  Phars.  vi.  508)  conjured  up  the  spirits  of  the  dead. 
{Inferno,  c.  ix.  22-24). 


THE   MEDLEVAL   VIRGIL  263 

order  to  draw  a  soul  out  of  the  circle  of 
Guidecca,  the  nethermost  pit.  Virgil  is  also 
pourtrayed  as  wise  and  dignified.  His  name 
was  attached  to  a  crowd  of  current  legends,  and 
he  is  the  subject  of  many  mediaeval  poems,  some 
hortatory,  some  amatory,  in  many  languages.  To 
him  is  given  the  role  of  Merlin  when  tricked  by 
Vivian ;  he  was  caught  not  in  the  oak,  but  in  a 
basket,  hung  out  of  a  window,  to  the  derision 
of  the  crowd. 

"Une  femme  par  ses  engins 
ne  trompa-elle  aussi  Virgile, 
quant  <\  uns  panier  il  fut  prins 
Et  puis  pendu  emmy  la  ville  ? "  ^ 

What  must  wise  men  endure,  when  mocked  by 
lively  beauties !  Let  us  be  patient,  remembering 
Virgil. 

There  was  also  a  desire  to  enrol  him  among 
the  saints.  This  led  to  a  marvellous  legend,  one 
so  popular  that  it  actually  found  a  place  in  a 
Hymn  sung  at  the  INIass  on  St  Paul's  day  in 
Mantua.  It  runs  tliat  St  Paul  when  he  landed 
in    Italy    turned    aside    to    see    Virgil's    tomb   at 

^  Comparetti,  "  Virgilio  nel  medio  evo,"  vol,  ii.  p.  116. 


264  DANTE  AND   VIRGIL 

Parthenope  (now  Naples) ;  there  he  lamented 
that  he  had  come  too  late  to  find  him  still 
living,  for  then  he  would  have  taught  him  the 
faith. 

"Ad  Maronis  Mausoleum 
Ductus  fudit  super  eum 

Piae  rorem  lacrimae  : — 
Si  te  vivum  invenissem 
Quani  te  vivum  reddidissem 
Poetarum  maxume ! " 

which  is  turned  by  Matthew  Arnold  as  follows : 

"  Brought  to  Maro's  tomb  he  cried 
O'er  the  flower  of  Mantua's  pride, 

Shedding  many  a  pious  tear ; 
Living  if  I  could  have  found  thee, 
How  would  I  have  loved  and  crown'd  thee, 
Chief  of  poets,  ever  dear  ! " 

Medieval  romance,  however,  wanted  stronger 
food  than  this ;  and  so  in  the  fourteenth  century 
there  was  spun  out  a  weird  tale  instead  of  this 
poetical  fiction. 

St  Paul,  on  landing  in  Italy,  was  taken  to 
see  the  tomb  of  A^irgil ;  he  found  the  entrance 
to  it  in  the  side  of  a  steep  hill,  by  a  subterranean 
passage.     Here  he  boldly  went  in,  full  of  curiosity 


A   MEDIAEVAL   ROMANCE  265 

and  reverence  for  the  poet.  First  he  was  en- 
countered by  a  furious  gale  of  wind,  with  thunder 
and  hghtning;  then,  as  he  made  his  way  towards 
the  middle  of  the  mound,  he  heard  reverberating 
in  the  hollow  way  the  clash  of  steel  and  din  of 
hammers.  When  he  came  to  an  inner  door,  he 
found  on  either  side  of  it  a  grim,  hideous  figure  in 
bronze,  who  wielded  a  steel  hammer:  the  two 
flung  their  hammers  round,  so  that  none  could 
pass  between.  Through  the  entrance  St  Paul 
was  able  to  see,  by  the  light  of  a  lamp  hung 
from  the  vault  above,  the  poet  seated  on  a 
throne,  with  a  great  wax  taper  alight  stand- 
ing on  either  hand ;  around  him  were  strewn 
books,  all  open.  Over  against  him  stood  another 
bronze  figure,  armed,  in  the  attitude  of  one 
about  to  shoot  from  a  bow.  By  some  unex- 
plained power,  St  Paul  quieted  the  two  club- 
men, and  stepped  within  the  doorway.  Then 
in  a  moment  the  figure  drew  bow  and  shot. 
The  pellet  struck  the  lamp  and  shattered  it, 
the  whole  vault  was  wrapped  in  darkness  and 
dust,  and  all  seemed  to  fall  in  together.  St 
Paul   found   himself  again   in   the  open  air,  and, 


'266  DANTE   AND   VIRGIL 

seeing  that   no    more    could    be    done,   went  on 
his  way  in  sorrow.^ 

Yet  all  this  wonder-world  would  never  have 
secured  to  Virgil  his  place  as  guide  to  Dante  in 
his  wonderful  journey  through  the  unknown 
world :  nor  perhaps  would  it  have  been  enough 
for  Dante  to  have  recognised  both  the  descent 
of  iEneas  into  the  realms  of  Dis  in  the  sixth 
book  of  the  ^neid,  or  the  splendour  of  prophetic 
inspiration  in  the  Sibylline  picture  of  the  new 
heaven  and  the  new  earth  in  the  fourth  Eclogue 
— though  the  descent  to  the  realm  of  Dis  qualified 
him  as  a  guide,  and  the  Eclogue  was  held  in 
the  Middle  Ages  to  be  the  utterance  of  a  true 
Prophet.  What  was  needed  more  than  this  was 
Dante's  faith  in  the  imperial  unity  of  Rome,  his 
Ghibelline  belief  in  the  persistence  of  the  world- 
authority  of  the  Ceesars.  To  him  Virgil  was  the 
John  Baptist  of  the  Latin  world : 

"Jam  redit  et  Virgo,  redeimt  Saturnia  regna," 

he  cries,  an  age  of  Peace  and  reformed  life,  with 
Utopian   gleams ;  he  even   seems   to   hint  at  the 

^  Comparetti,  vol.  ii.  pp.  94,  95. 


DANTE  THE   GHIBELLINE  267 

coming  of  the   Blessed    Child.      Virgil    was   also 
herald  of  the  Roman  world-empire ;   a  rule  under 
which    the   earth    should   be   blessed    with   sweet 
fertiUty,  and  all  should  go  well  under  the  happy- 
rule  of  the  Benevolent  Despot.      One  heard  the 
same     song    again    in    the     eighteenth    century. 
To   Dante   the   lay-empire   was   older    and    more 
august  than  the  Church-empire,  the  Papacy ;  yet 
both  of  them  were  God's  vicegerents  to  rule  the 
world.     This  high  conception  of  the  perfect  ruler 
has   tinged   men's  thoughts   from   the  beginning : 
the   dream    of  one   removed    above    the    meaner 
turmoil   of    selhsh    daily    politics    has   ever    been 
the  delight  of  the   hopeful.     Dante's    Prince,  the 
perfect   man    in    strength    and    virtue,    in  purity 
and   noble  conduct   of  life,  large-minded,  firm   of 
grasp,   though    unlike   the    men    of    our   modern 
Utopias,  was  very  like  Carlyle's    "  strong   man "  ; 
all  is  staked  on  one  man's  personal  goodness  and 
firmness.      Yet   to    Dante   the    central   figure  of 
all  the  concentric  rings  of  rulers  is  not  a  Priest 
but  a  layman,  not  a  Pope  but  a  Caesar.     Not  to 
the    august    Papacy,    nor    to    the     self-contained 
mediseval  city,   but    to   the   universal   empire   his 


268  DANTE   AND  VIRGIL 

mind  turned ;  and  of  this  Empire  Virgil  was 
the  Prophet,  the  inspired  Seer  "in  persona  di 
Dio  parlando,"  ^  as  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Tn  regere  imperio  populos,  Romane,  memento — 
Hae  tibi  erunt  artes  ;  pacisque  imponere  morem  ; 
Parcere  subjectis  et  debellare  superbos." 

—^71.,  vi.  852-4. 

So  sang  the  "divinus  poeta  noster,"  as  Dante 
styled  him ;  rejoicing  that  the  Italians  of  his 
day  were  the  true  heirs  of  ancient  glories.  The 
destiny  transferred  by  him  to  the  Germanic 
Emperor  was  superb  in  theory ;  to  rule  the 
whole  world ;  to  be  God-gifted  with  the  power 
of  seeing  truth  and  science ;  to  compel  the  world 
to  peace,  to  be  a  mighty  avenger  of  wrong,  to 
punish  the  turbulent. 

And  this  was  Virgil's  highest  flight.  Dante 
quotes  him  as  on  a  level  with  Holy  Writ.  In 
his  mind  there  were  two  Revelations  ;  of  equal 
authority  with  the  rule  of  the  vicegerent  of  the 
divine  authority  was  the  Caesar  sung  by  the 
prophet  Virgil.  In  the  Inferno  he  sets  on  the 
same  level,  as   the  greatest  of  sinners,  those  who 

i  "De  Monarchia,"  Bookii.  3. 


THE   POSITION  OF   VIRGIL  269 

were     traitors    against    Csesar,    and    those    who 
betrayed  Christ. 

This  we  discern  at  the  very  outset  of  the 
Inferyio :  there  Dante  is  amazed  to  learn  that 
under  Virgil's  guidance  he  is  to  visit  the  unseen 
world.  Twice  only  had  there  been  such  a  marvel, 
first,  in  the  person  of  ^Eneas,  as  founder  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  and  then  in  the  person  of  St 
Paul,  as  founder  of  the  Roman  Church.  The 
parallel  runs  all  through.  Nothing  shows  it 
better  than  Dante's  treatment  of  the  legend 
about  Statins,  the  Roman  poet,  who  lived  in  the 
time  of  our  Lord. 

" '  Thou  sliowedst  me  first,'  lie  answered,  'where 
To  taste  Parnassus'  fountains  fair  ; 
Afterwards  on  the  road 
Didst  light  that  leads  to  God. 

"  '  'Twas  thine  to  be  as  one  at  night, 
Behind  his  back  who  bears  a  light, 
Whence  others  may  be  taught. 
Though  him  it  profits  naught. 

'"So  didst  thou  sing  the  world's  new  birth 
And  justice  lighting  on  the  earth. 
And  a  new  progeny 
Descending  from  the  sky. 


270  DANTE   AND  VIRGIL 

"  '  And  understand  that  by  thy  aid 
Poet  was  I  and  Christian  made, 
And  now  the  outline  faint 
My  hand  shall  reach  to  paint. 

"  '  Then  was  the  world  impregnate  all 
The  seed  of  true  belief  withal, 
The  seed  of  message  sown 
From  the  eternal  throne. 

"  '  So  well  thy  late-repeated  word 
Did  with  the  preacher's  new  accord, 
That  oft  I  made  resort 
To  hear  of  their  report. 

"  '  So  holy  grew  to  me  their  band 
That,  when  Domitian  reached  his  hand 
To  persecute,  my  tears 
Flowed  to  unite  with  theirs. 

"  'And  ere  my  verse  to  Thebes  had  brought 
The  Greeks,  to  Baptism  I  had  sought, 
But  stayed  for  fear  of  ill 
A  hidden  Christian  still.'  "  ^ 

Thus  Virgil  is  presented  as  the  EvangeHst 
for  Christ,  and  as  converting  Statins. 

This  is  why  Dante  takes  him  as  guide  and 
friend ;  this  is   why  Virgil  never  withdraws   from 

^  From  Mr  Shadwell's  spirited  translation  of  the  Purgatorio, 
c.  xxii.  64. 


WHY   HE   IS    DANTE'S   GUIDE  271 

his  task,  till  at  the  end  of  Purgatory  the  Divine 
Wisdom  in  form  of  Beatrice  replaces  him,  and 
leads  the  poet  to  the  last  a^^ul  journey  through 
the  heavenly  courts.  From  the  very  beginning 
the  influence  of  this  more  divine  Beatrice  is 
visible :  Virgil  tells  Dante  that 

"  Donna  mi  cliiam5  beata  e  bella  "  ^ 

to  be  an  Ambassador  for  this  high  wisdom 
"with  eyes  more  bright  than  A^enus'  star."  So 
Virgil  is  the  link  between  the  old  world  and  the 
new. 

This  then  is  the  meaning  of  Dante's  choice 
of  Virgil :  he  represents  to  him  the  Divine 
purpose,  as  he  conceived  it,  in  the  Ghibelline 
domination  of  the  Germanic  Cccsars  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire.  He  has  not  the  heavenly 
wisdom  of  Beatrice,  and  when  she  appears  he 
fades  away :  he  has,  however,  knowledge  and 
moral  wisdom,  and  is  a  protector  in  the  most  awful 
moments,  drawn  by  the  poet's  vivid  imagination. 

If  we  now  briefly  trace  the  outline  of  the 
beginning    of    ^^irgil's    guidance,     we     shall     see 

^  Inferno,  c.  ii.  53. 


272  DANTE   AND   VIRGIL 

with  what  skill  the  Roman  poet  is  made  to  take 
the  foremost  part  in  the  marvellous  work. 

When  in  the  opening  canto,  Dante  is  stopped 
by  the  Panther,  the  Lion,  and  the  She-wolf,^ 
he  discerns  a  figure  not  far  away  ;  to  this  human 
being  he  at  once  appeals  : 

'"Have  pity,  whatsoe'er  thou  be,'  I  cried, 
'  Or  living  man,  or  melancholy  ghost.' 
'  No  man,'  he  answered,  '  thongh  I  once  was  man  ; 
My  parents  were  of  Lombardy  ;  and  they 
In  Mantua  both  their  mortal  journey  ran. 

" 'Late  in  great  Julius'  reign  I  had  my  birth, 
And  lived  at  Rome  'neath  good  Augustus'  sway, 
When  false  and  lying  Gods  prevailed  on  earth. 
A  bard  was  I ;  and  sang  that  just  one's  fame — 
Anchises'  son — who  left  the  Trojan  shore, 
When  fell  proud  Ilion,  wrapt  in  hostile  flame. 

"  '  But  why  returnest  thou  to  such  annoy  ? 
Why  dost  thou  climb  yon  pleasant  mount  no  more, 
The  origin  and  cause  of  every  joy  ? ' 
With  looks  abashed  I  answered,  bending  low  : 
'  Art  thou  that  Virgil  then — that  fountain  clear 
Whence  streams  of  eloquence  so  richly  flow  ? 

^  That  is,  the  Panther  represents  the  black  and  white 
Florentine  factions — chi  di  pel  maculato  era  coperta,  wliile 
the  Lion  gives  us  the  fierceness  of  France  and  of  Philip  le  Bel ; 
and  the  She-wolf  is  the  proper  symbol  of  Rome. 


THEIR   MEETING  273 

"  *  0  thou,  of  bards  the  honour  and  the  light, 
Let  my  long  study  of  thy  volume  dear 
And  mighty  love  find  favour  in  thy  sight ! 
My  master  thou  ; — my  author  most  admired, 
To  thee  alone  that  beauteous  style  I  owe, 
Which  for  my  name  such  honour  hath  acquired.'  "  ^ 

Yet  Dante  still  hesitates,  unworthy  of  so  great 
a  grace  as  the  protection  of  Virgil :  who  ends 
by  promising  to  guide  him,  till  he  seeks  to  rise 
higher  than  Purgatory ;  further  he  cannot  go, 
but  he  will  leave  Dante  in  charge  of  her  who 
treads  those  courts,  and  will  retire. 

A  little  later  he  encourages  Dante  to  persevere, 
and  tells  him  he  has  been  commissioned  for  this 
object  to  join  him,  and  to  lead  him  forward  to 
the  happiness  of  meeting  the  heavenly  Beatrice. 
And  so  we  find  that  he  pilots  Dante  through 
Inferno  and  Purgatorio.  There  is  perhaps  no 
place  in  which  Dante's  poetic  skill  is  so  finely 
shown  as  in  the  scene  of  the  close  of  these 
relations  with  Virgil.^  At  the  head  of  the  stair 
to  Paradise,  after  the  great  wall  of  flame,  comes 

1  Inferno,  c.  i.  in  Gary's  translation. 

-  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  in  Purgatorio,  c.  xxii.  127,  Dante 
walks  humbly  behind  Virgil  and  Statins  (the  latter  being  the  more 

S 


274  DANTE   AND  VIRGIL 

the  parting.  I  quote  this  from  INIr  Shadwell's 
remarkable  and  exact  translation  of  the  Purga- 
torio,  c.   XXX. : 

"  And  soon  as  on  my  sight  there  broke 
That  excellence  supreme,  whose  stroke 
Already  I  had  known 
Ere  boyhood  was  outgrown, — 

"  To  the  left  turned  I  in  such^^^se 
As  child  unto  his  mother  flies. 
Running  to  her,  whene'er 
In  trouble  or  in  fear, 

"  And  spake  to  Virgil,  '  In  my  veins 
No  drachm  that  trembleth  not  remains  ; 
By  token  well  I  know 
The  flame  of  long  ago.' 

"  But  we  had  been  by  Virgil  left, 
Of  Virgil,  father  sweet,  bereft, 
Virgil,  to  whom  I  gave  me. 
And  turned  to  him  to  save  me. 

"  Not  all  the  vision  of  that  place 
Our  ancient  mother  lost,  had  gTace 
My  dew-cleansed  cheeks  to  guard 
From  tears  their  hue  that  marred. 

sure  guide  for  these  higher  regions)  ;  then  in  Purgatorio,  c.  xxvii. 
46,  he  walks  with  Virgil  on  one  side  and  Statius  on  the  other ; 
and  lastly,  at  the  end  of  the  Purgatorio,  Dante  walks  before  them 
both. 


THEIR   PARTING  275 

"  '  Dante,  weep  not :  though  Virgil  be 
Departed,  weep  not  yet :  for  thee 
Behoves  thy  tears  be  poured 
At  stroke  of  other  sword.' 

"  As  Admiral  his  fleet  reviews 
From  poop,  from  prow,  and  bids  his  crews, 
On  all  his  ships  about 
Stir  them  to  courage  stout ; 

"So  on  that  car's  left  edge  appeared, 
Even  as  I  turned  me,  when  I  heard 
My  name  pronounced,  that  here 
Perforce  I  register, 

"  That  lady,  who  before  had  been 
Enveiled  'mid  angels'  greeting  seen 
On  me  her  eyes  now  bending. 
Across  the  river  sending. 


'&• 


"  And  though  the  veil  her  head  beneath 
Encircled  with  Minerva's  wreath. 
Hung  down,  nor  left  confessed 
Her  semblance  manifest ; 

"  In  royal  wise,  but  haughty  still, 
Continued  she,  as  one  that  will 
Speak,  yet  within  him  stored 
Keeps  back  the  sharper  word. 

'"Look  well,  'tis  Beatris,  'tis  L'  " 

And  so  the  Latin  seer  goes :   not  without  a   last 
and  remarkable  word : 


276  DANTE   AND   VIRGIL 

"  No  longer  on  my  word  abide, 
Nor  look  for  sign  from  me  to  guide  : 
Now  hast  thou  judgment  found 
Free  and  upright  and  sound. 

"  Henceforth  in  thee  it  were  offence 
Not  to  be  guided  by  thy  sense  : 
Now  o'er  thyself  I  set 
Mitre  and  Coronet." 

This  famous  passage  ending  with  the  mysterious 
"  Perch'io  te  sopra  te  corono  e  mitrio "  has  been 
greatly  debated,  though  it  has  a  magnificent 
interpretation.  From  this  moment  Dante  is  no 
more  a  timid  wayfarer:  he  has  reached  the 
height  of  true  manhood ;  lord  of  himself,  he  is 
crowned  with  the  temporal  and  spiritual  crown, 
as  with  divine  and  human  wisdom,  fit  to  tread 
the  courts  of  heaven. 

Indeed,  in  this  farewell  the  splendid  picture 
whirls  round  to  that  which  we  are  ever  im- 
pressing on  mankind — that  is,  to  the  personal 
strength,  independence,  uprightness,  purity, 
wisdom  of  will,  of  one  made  in  God's  image. 
No  aim  less  dignified  should  be  ours :  for  this 
is  the  true  Coronation,  the  true  Tiara,  to  open 
heaven's    gates.      Let  there    be    no    slavery,    no 


MEDIEVAL  PICTURES  OF  VIRGIL      27T 

falsehood,  no  sinking  under  evil  or  vice.  He 
who  has  passed  through  the  dark  valley  un- 
scathed may  hope  to  attain  to  this  height 
of  nature.  No  cloistral  virtue  is  enough :  a 
man  must  be  strong,  to  descend  willingly  to  see 
the  evil  festering  underneath,  and,  from  the  cruel 
evils  of  the  world,  to  gain  purity  and  deter- 
mination ;  this  is  the  man  whom  wisdom  will 
crown  and  mitre;  it  is  he  who,  with  a  true 
liberty  and  a  gentle  independence,  will  bring 
blessings  of  the  world.  The  essential  thing  is 
that  the  strengthened  human  soul  will  rise  and 
raise. 

Thus  then  we  bid  farewell  to  Dante's  Virgil ; 
that  fascinating  figure  of  the  Middle  Ages,  a 
being  unknown  to  the  myriads  of  English  lads 
who  spell  their  way  through  the  ^neid.  This 
fascination  is  gone  from  us :  he  is  now  only 
the  text-book  of  weary  schoolboys.  Yet  in 
those  times  he  was  imagined  sometimes  as  a 
Latin  gentleman,  sometimes  as  a  half  Oriental 
sage. 

In  John  the  Monk's  dull  "  Dolopathos,"  a 
mediaeval  romance,  the  hero  comes  to  Home,  and 


278  DANTE  AND  VIRGIL 

betakes  himself  to  Virgil's  school.  There  he  finds 
the  Poet  in  his  chair,  wearing  a  rich  cope  or 
cape  lined  with  fur,  without  sleeves,  with  a  fine 
skin-cap  on  his  head,  with  the  hood  drawn 
back.  Around  him  stand  the  sons  of  the  bravest 
nobles  of  Rome,  being  taught,  let  us  hope,  with 
more  success  than  Charles  the  Great  secured 
for  his  young  German  nobles  two  centuries 
earlier  than  the  days  of  John  the  Monk.  This 
was  the  ideal  Virgil  of  days  more  than  a  century 
before  Dante ;  in  days  not  long  after  Dante 
we  have  an  admirable  presentment  of  the  Poet 
in  the  pages  of  'Sandro  Botticelli's  illustrations 
of  the  Commedia}  For  'Sandro  presents  us 
Virgil  in  colour  and  form  of  dress  :  he  wears  a 
kind  of  Jewish  mitre  in  fur ;  his  hair  is  long  and 
venerable,  with  a  heavy  beard  and  moustache ; 
he  carries  a  solemn  and  weary  look  of  wisdom. 
The  mitre  is  plum-coloured,  or  perhaps  dark 
crimson,  with  a  lining  or  trimming  of  lamb's 
wool.  He  wears  a  blue  under-coat  with  sleeves, 
and    a    dark    crimson    cape   with    white    linings. 

^  This  remarkable  series  of  illustrations  has  been  admirably 
reproduced  at  Berlin  by  the  German  Government. 


VIRGIL   A   ROMAN   PROPHET  279 

This  is  of  course  a  fancy  dress,  yet  it  is  carefully 
adhered  to,  far  more  so  than  we  find  in  the 
delineations  of  the  early  editions,  such  as  the 
\^ellutello  Edition  of  1544,  in  which  the  letters 
D  and  V  are  sometimes  set  over  the  figures,  to 
secure  them  from  being  confused  together. 

Thus  then  A^irgil  is  marked  out  by  Dante 
as  the  prophet  of  his  ideal  Roman  world - 
empire,  which  stands  side  by  side  with  Christ's 
empire,  of  which  the  Papacy  was  in  his  days 
the  representative.  Dante  stood  at  the  part- 
ing of  the  ways ;  a  poetic  spirit  of  the  old 
world,  he  ever  looks  back.  Hence  comes  this 
characteristic  of  the  Commedia,  that  Dante, 
essentially  a  theological  writer,  never  deals  with 
the  coming  times,  or  if  he  does  touch  on 
prophecy,  does  it  in  an  obscure  and  narrow 
way.  He  knew  nothing  of  all  those  movements 
in  which  the  Commedia  formed  a  literary  epoch. 
For  though  our  poet's  mind  was  full  of  empires, 
he  nevertheless  gave  a  far  more  important 
impulse  to  the  germinant  growth  of  national 
life.  While  the  civilised  world  was  still  under 
the  influence  of  the  "  Universal    Language,"   the 


280  DANTE   AND   VIRGIL 

Latin,  he  impressed  a  permanent  literary 
character  on  the  "  vulgare  eloquium,"  the  speech 
of  the  people.  In  the  Commedia,  and  still 
more  in  his  prose  writings,  he  opened  the  way 
for  a  great  national  literature ;  and  what  can 
be  a  stronger  element  than  this  in  a  nation's 
growth  ?  It  is  not  clear  whether  the  Church 
gained  or  lost  on  the  whole  by  her  strict  and 
narrow  adherence  to  the  Latin  language,  which 
she  endeavoured  to  impose  on  the  world  as  the 
universal  speech  of  mankind ;  certain  it  is  that 
those  who  threw  off  their  allegiance  to  her, 
made  at  the  same  time  vast  advances  in  their 
national  languages  and  letters.  To  clothe  glow- 
ing thoughts  in  words  "  in  which  even  women 
can  converse,"  as  was  said  of  Dante's  Italian 
writings,  was  a  great  step  in  the  right  direction ; 
to  make  that  speech  instinct  with  life,  and  so 
far  superior  to  the  dead  tongue  it  rivalled,  was 
another  huge  gain ; — for  this  too  Dante  has  the 
praise.  He  lived  in  Florence  while  Art  was 
working  miracles  around  him :  he  saw  the 
splendour  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio  (1298),  the 
building    of    the    Loggia,   the  growth    of    Santa 


INFLUENCES   AFFECTING   DANTE      281 

Croce,  and  of  Santa  Maria  del  Fiore,  with  its 
beautiful  dome.  While  a  pure  taste  ruled  every 
branch  of  Art,  and  he  could  drink  in  inspiration 
from  fresh  public  monuments  like  the  Baptistery- 
gates,  from  the  creations  of  Cimabue  or  Giotto, 
from  the  tuneful  strains  of  Casella,  fi'om  the 
marvels  of  Niccolo  da  Pisa  and  Arnolfo, — while 
these  glories  were  alive  around  him,  he  too  was 
fired  to  create  splendid  monuments  of  poetry  or 
prose.  Let  us  hope  that  this  priceless  inheritance  of 
Dante's  genius  will  ever  dignify  and  refine  that  new 
and  noble  national  history,  a  history  of  peace  and 
plenty,  in  which  Italy  will  come  to  be  a  leader 
and  an  inspiration  to  the  smaller  states  of  Europe, 
centre  of  a  group  national,  not  imperial — a  group 
invaluable,  in  which  all  diversities  and  all 
liberties  are  kept  alive  and  protected  from  the 
crushing  wheels  of  an  imperial  carroccio.  When 
Italy  can  say  triumphantly  "  Italia  fara  da  se,"  we 
shall  feel  that  we  are  past  the  worst  perils 
which  threaten  the  liberties  of  the  modern 
world. 

Every  generous  soul  must  pray  for  and  help 
towards  the  independence   of  these  characteristic 


282  DANTE   AND   VIRGIL 

states,  these  homes  of  freedom,  these  happy  refuges 
ofdeHcate  arts  and  simple  life.  Lands  are  these, 
in  which  the  iron  heel  of  miUtarism  is  not  felt, 
where  social  and  civic  life  can  grow  in  wholesome 
freedom.  Switzerland,  Holland,  and  the  Scan- 
dinavian Kingdoms  are  free  lands  which  must 
be  cherished.  If  Italy  will  cast  in  her  lot  with 
these,  she  need  no  longer  deplore  with  Filicaia 
that  "  fatal  don  di  bellezza "  which  has  been  so 
often  her  ruin,  and  has  hindered  the  natural  and 
proper  splendour  of  her  free  national  hfe. 

Great  gifts  do  not  die.  And  Dante's  genius, 
his  inheritance  left  to  Italy,  will  still  work  marvels 
for  the  land  he  loved  so  warmly,  and  which 
buffeted  him  so  cruelly  while  he  lived. 


VIII 

THE  BURIAL-PLACE  OF  THE  SLAV- 
ONIANS :  NORTH  STONEHAM 
CHURCH,    HAMPSHIRE 

{Read  hefore  the  London  Society  of  Antiquaries,  1894.) 

North  Stoneham,  a  pretty  village  lying  about 
four  miles  north  of  Southampton,  stands,  as 
the  name  denotes,  "  Ad  Lapidem,"  at  one  of 
the  milestones  on  the  Roman  road  from 
Winchester  to  the  waterside  at  Clausentum. 
The  parish  church  has  somewhat  higher  archi- 
tectural pretensions  than  is  usual  in  simple 
Hampshire  village  churches ;  it  has  a  nave  and 
two  aisles  running  the  whole  length  of  the  build- 
ing, but  no  structural  chancel ;  it  is  almost  a 
square,  with  a  low  fifteenth-century  tower  at  the 
west  end. 

In   the   north    aisle   of  this    church,    says    Mr 


284       BURIAL-PLACE   OF   SLAVONIANS 

Duthy,^  was  the  original  burying-place  of  these 
Slavonian  strangers  ;  for  the  great  ledger-stone,  "  a 
slab  of  polished  foreign  stone,"  as  Mr  Shore  of 
the  Hartley  Institute  calls  it,  which  covers  their 
remains,  seems  to  have  lain  in  that  aisle  in  his  time 
(1839).  Since  the  date  of  Mr  Duthy's  book,  it 
appears  to  have  been  removed  to  the  middle  of  the 
church,  just  in  front  of  the  altar-rails.  The  north 
aisle  had  been  given  up  to  the  Fleming  family, 
the  squires  of  the  parish. 

The  rector,  needing  space  for  his  choir,  has 
lately  boarded  over  with  a  wooden  floor  the  area 
in  which  the  stone  rests ;  he  has,  however,  kindly 
enabled  me  to  get  a  rubbing  of  it,  after  the  planks 
of  the  floor  had  been  removed  for  the  purpose.^ 

^  The  passage  in  Dutliy  runs  thus  :  "  On  the  pavement 
of  the  north  aisle  is  a  large  stone,  having  round  an  eagle 
displayed  the  words  SEPVLTURA  DE  LA  SCHOLA  DE 
SCLAVONI  AND  DNI  MCCCCLXXXXI.  The  import  of 
the  inscription  has  not  been  ascertained.  It  has  been  suggested, 
however,  that  it  may  point  out  the  burial-place  of  a  Slavonian 
named  De  La  Schole,  and  that  the  arms  may  have  been  intended 
to  designate  his  nation." — "Sketches  of  Hampshire,"  p.  396. 

2  By  permission  of  the  rector,  the  Rev.  E.  K.  Browne,  MA., 
the  wooden  flooring  has  now  been  cut  through  and  hinged,  so 
making  it  possible  to  see  the  stone,  at  the  expense  of  the  Hamp- 


CI 


o 

5 


THE   LEDGER-STONE   AT   STONEHAM  285 

The  stone  is  6  feet  8  inches  by  3  feet  7  inches, 
and  so  incised  as  to  imitate  a  brass ;  round  the 
edge  runs  an  inscription,  bordered  by  parallel  lines  ; 
and  at  the  angles  are  quatre  foils  with  the  symbols 
of  the  four  Evangelists ;  in  the  middle  of  the 
stone  is  a  well-designed  shield,  charged  with  a 
double-headed   eagle.     The  inscription  runs  thus : 

SEPVLTVRA  DE  LA  SCHOLA  DE  SCLAVONI  ANO 
DNI  M  CCCC  LXXXXI 

These  Italian  words,  for  they  appear  to  be 
medigeval  Italian  rather  than  I^atin,  may  safely  be 
rendered  as  "  The  burial-place  of  the  gild  (or 
fraternity)  of  the  Sclavonians,  A.D.  1491."  Duthy, 
who  at  any  rate  saw  that  there  was  something 
interesting  here,  goes  altogether  astray  in  his 
rendering;  for  he  thinks  that  "De  la  Schola"  is 
the  name  of  a  person  interred,  and  explains  the 
spread-eagle  as  the  badge  of  his  nationality,  the 
Slavonian. 

The  words  "  Schola  de  Sclavoni,"  however, 
carry  us  at  once   to   Venice ;  for  there,   as   JMol- 

shire  Field  Club.     The  accompanying  plate  of  the  slab  is  from  a 
rubbing  made  by  Mr  W.  H.  St  John  Hope. 


286       BURIAL-PLACE   OF   SLAVONIANS 

menti  tells  us  in  his  interesting  volume,^  "  these 
Scuole  were  a  number  of  small  but  powerful 
republics  (guilds,  rather,  or  societies),  which  put 
themselves  under  the  protection  of  some  saint, 
erected  buildings  of  their  own,  and  adorned 
their  churches  with  pictures  by  the  best  artists." 
These  words  may  be  only  a  generalisation  from 
the  one  example  at  ^"enice ;  at  any  rate,  it  is 
known  that  a  company  or  gild  of  Slavonian 
seamen  had  a  settlement  there,  which  still  bears 
their  name ;  that  district  being  styled  "  la  riva 
de'  Schiavoni "  to  this  day.  Here  they  had 
their  quay  and  landing-place,  buildings  for 
business,  and  a  little  behind  the  remarkable 
Church  or  Chapel  of  St  George,  adorned  at  their 
cost  with  a  fine  scheme  of  wall-paintings  by 
Carpaccio.     This  chapel  was  finished  in  1501.^ 

It  is  said,  and  I  believe  rightly,  that  this  Scuola 
was  composed  of  Illyrian  or  Dalmatian  sailors, 
brought   over   to  Venice   at  a  time  when  a  large 

1  "  La  vie  priv^e  k  Venise  "  (Ven.  1882). 

2  A  very  interesting  and  complete  account  of  St  George's 
Chapel  is  to  be  found  in  Mr  J.  R.  Anderson's  Paper  on  Carpaccio's 
works,  in  the  "St  Mark's  Rest," 


THE   VENETIAN   SLAVONIANS  287 

part  of  the  Adriatic  seaboard  was  under  the 
dominion  of  the  RepubHc :  they  manned  the 
galleys  which  carried  the  commerce  and  the 
products  of  the  East  to  all  parts  of  the  western 
world.  Flaminio  Cornerio^  says  that  the  Slav- 
onians crossed  the  Adriatic  "in  1451,  many  being 
sailors,  and  determined  to  found  (in  Venice)  a 
charitable  brotherhood  under  St  George  and  St 
Tryphon,  for  the  succour  of  poor  seamen  and 
others  of  their  nation,  and  to  conduct  their 
bodies  religiously  to  burial."  We  have  also 
their  own  declaration  on  the  subject,  under  date 
1452,  the  year  of  their  arrival  in  Venice,  and  the 
year  before  the  world's  catastrophe  at  Constanti- 
nople. Their  aim,  they  say,  is  "to  hold  united 
in  sacred  bonds  men  of  Dalmatian  blood,  to 
render  homage  to  God  and  His  saints  by  chari- 
table endeavours  and  by  rehgious  ceremonies,  and 
by  holy  sacrifices  to  help  the  souls  of  the  brethren 
alive  or  dead."  Both  these  passages  point  to  the 
same  anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  those  of  their 
people  who  died  in  foreign  lands. 

This     then    is      the     starting-point     of     our 

1  "Notizie  Storiche"  (Ven.  1758),  167. 


288        BURIAL-PLACE   OF  SLAVONIANS 

Slavonians :   and  our  records  show  that   it  is  just 
after  this  time  that  they  appear  at  Southampton. 
These  lUyrians  and   Dalmatians  have    ever  been 
famous  seamen  :  to  this  day,  I  believe,  they  furnish 
the  best  of  the  crews  for  the  Austrian  navy.     They 
were   not   Ragusans,  for  these   were  Latins,  and 
their  "  argosies  "  were  not  manned  with  Slavonian 
crews ;   on   the   contrary,   a   bitter  hostility   ruled 
between   them   and   the   native   people  of  lUyria 
and   Dalmatia.     Venice,  on  the  other  hand,   had 
no   such    feeling,   but  recruited    her    ships    from 
every   quarter,  much   as  our    English    merchant- 
navy  is  largely  manned  with  Norwegians  or  with 
Lascars.     It  was  therefore  perfectly   natural   that 
when  the  eastern  shores  of  the  Adriatic  fell  under 
Venetian    control,   the   Slavonian   seamen   should 
be  transferred   in   large  numbers  to   the   City   on 
the  Lagunes.     The  next  point  is,  how   did  these 
Slavonians    come   to   leave   traces    of   themselves 
in   a   quiet   Hampshire   village  ?      We    must,   to 
answer  the  query,  look   first   into   the   records  of 
Venetian  trade   with   England ;    it   is   plain   that 
if  we   find   a   connection    between   the   Venetian 
galleys     at    Southampton  7and     Winchester    we 


THE   VENETIAN  TRADERS  289 

shall  be  on  our  way  towards  a  solution  of  the 
problem. 

Now,  there  is  plenty  of  evidence  that  in  the 
fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  the  Venetian 
traders,  though  they  dealt  mainly  with  the 
wealthy  cities  of  the  Low  Countries  (the  convoys 
were  usually  styled  "the  Flanders  fleets"),  were 
also  in  frequent  communication  with  England, 
through  London  or  Southampton.  We  find  that 
merchandise  sometimes  passed  up  the  Thames, 
and  sometimes  was  landed  at  Southampton. 

This  commerce  was  so  great  that  it  enabled 
the  Venetians  to  send  out  fleets  of  considerable 
size,  and  the  ships  acted  as  a  protection  to  one 
another.  Each  vessel,  we  learn,  besides  her  180 
oarsmen,  mostly  Slavonians,  her  pilots,  scribes,  and 
craftsmen,  musicians  and  physicians,  carried  a  body 
of  thirty  archers  for  defence ;  the  archers  were 
connnanded  by  four  youths  of  the  patrician  rank, 
told  off"  specially  for  this  duty,  "  in  order  that 
the  noble  youth  of  Venice  may  see  the  world." 
For  the  oligarchy  knew  that  their  position  could 
not  be  sustained  unless  their  sons  were  trained 
to   become    famihar   with    the    conditions    under 

T 


290       BURIAL-PLACE   OF   SLAVONIANS 

which  their  trade  was  carried  on.  The  Venetian 
State  Papers  show  that  there  was  also  a  need 
for  these  skilled  fighting  men.  Almost  on  every 
occasion  on  which  they  make  mention  of  visits 
to  Southampton  they  tell  us  of  unfriendly 
relations  between  the  crews  and  the  townsfolk. 
Thus,  in  1323,  a  serious  affray  occurred.  The 
patrons,  merchants,  masters,  and  seamen  of  five 
Venetian  galleys  fought  the  Southampton  men, 
and  there  was  bloodshed  as  well  as  much 
destruction  of  goods.  Again,  in  1384,  there 
came  a  Decree  from  the  Senate,  replying  to  a 
communication  from  the  captain  of  the  fleet, 
who  had  asked  leave  to  run  over  to  Southampton 
to  complete  his  cargo.  The  Senate  tell  him 
that  if  his  council  (the  masters  of  all  the  galleys 
with  the  merchants)  think  good  to  go  to  Hampton, 
he  may  go  ;  only  they  beg  him  earnestly  not  to 
let  his  rowers  land,  lest  there  should  ensue  bad 
blood  and  affi-ays.  And,  in  1386,  we  find  that 
"  should  the  captain  and  the  shipmasters  deem 
it  too  perilous  to  touch  at  Hampton,  they  might 
forbear."  Even  when,  as  in  the  fifteenth  century 
in  1451,  a  Venetian  ship  is  ordered  to  put  ashore 


QUARRELS   WITH   THE   LONDONERS   291 

at  Southampton  goods  for  the  ^^enetian  merchants 
in  London,  a  similar  anxiety  is  shown.  So  that 
a  state  of  ill-will  and  angry  jealousy  seems  to 
have  existed  all  through  these  two  centuries. 

After  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century 
the  resort  of  the  galleys  to  Southampton  became 
far  more  frequent.  For  troubles  in  London, 
political  and  commercial,  made  that  city  very 
unsafe  for  the  Italians.  Sir  James  Ramsey,  in 
his  valuable  historical  work  on  "  Lancaster  and 
York"  (vol.  ii.  p.  104),  refers  to  these  London 
disturbances,  and  their  effect  on  Italian  trade. 
These  troubles,  in  fact,  caused  the  transfer  to 
Southampton  and  AVinchester  of  the  whole 
commercial  business  between  London  and  Venice. 
This  took  place  in  1456,  1457. 

"About  the  end  of  April  (1456),"  he  writes, 
"  serious  disturbances  broke  out  in  London,  pro))- 
ably  in  connection  with  the  attempt  to  prohibit 
the  sale  of  foreign  silks.  Tlic  servant  of  a 
mercer  picked  a  quarrel  with  an  Itahan  and 
assaulted  him.  The  Mayor  next  day,  having 
committed  the  offender  to  prison,  tlie  entire 
'  mercery '  of  the  city  rose  and  released  their 
fellow  The  houses  of  several  Itahans  were 
sacked ;     foreigners    hid    themselves,    or   fled   to 


292        BURIAL-PLACE   OF   SLAVONIANS 

Winchester  and  Southampton.  The  Duke  of 
Buckingham  was  sent  into  the  city  with  a 
commission  of  Oyer  et  Terminer  .  .  .  even 
the  king  (Henry  VI.)  was  brought  into  the  city 
to  appease  the  people.  On  the  5th  of  May  the 
disturbances  rose  to  such  a  height  that  the  king 
was  taken  back  to  Westminster.  .  .  .  By 
10th  May  order  was  restored,  two  or  three  men 
having  been  hung.  '  The  Lombards  to  occupie 
the  merchandizes  as  thei  dide  till  the  Counsail 
or  Parliament  have  otherwise  determined. ' "  ^ 

These  troubles  brought  matters  to  a  head. 
The  Italian  traders  appealed  for  protection 
against  the  intolerable  arrogance  and  violence 
of  the  Londoners  ;  and  the  Senate,  after  some 
delay,  issued  a  decree  that  "  in  consequence  of 
insults  by  artificers  and  shopkeepers  of  London  " 
the  Venetians,  Genoese,  Florentines,  and  Lucchese 
should  henceforth  have  nothing  more  to  do 
with  the  capital.  Their  trade,  however,  was 
too  valuable  and  their  spirit  too  high  to  be 
crushed  by  the  unmannerly  behaviour  of  the 
islanders,  "  toto  disjunctos  orbe  Britannos "  even 
in  the  fifteenth  century.  They  therefore  selected 
AVinchester  as  their  headquarters  and  emporium, 

i  "Fabian,"  630;  also  "Pastoii  Letters,"  i.  386,  387. 


transfp:rred  to  Winchester     29^5 

with  orders  that  "  no  A^enetian  ship  should  go  to 
London  so  long  as  the  inerchants  remain  absent " ; 
and,  remembering  how  badly  the  Italians  had  fared 
before  the  justices  in  the  capital,  they  added 
"that  the  merchants  should  insist  on  having  at 
Winchester  a  judge  for  all  law-suits  between 
English  and  Italians,  and  between  the  Italians 
themselves,  so  that  they  may  not  have  to  go  to 
London  to  the  Courts." — 23rd  August,  1457. 

This  transference  of  the  merchants,  with  all 
the  machinery  of  their  commerce,  to  Winchester, 
brings  us  close  to  the  point  of  our  enquiry, 
why  the  Slavonians  should  have  made  North 
Stoneham  Church  their  place  of  sepulture.  For 
Southampton  was  the  harbour  and  Piraeus  of 
Winchester ;  and  the  Italian  galleys  for  half  a 
century  regarded  that  town  as  tlie  true  com- 
mercial gate  and  port  of  entry  for  all  England. 
A  lively  traffic  at  once  converged  on  that 
sheltered  harbourage ;  and  as  a  necessary  conse- 
quence, the  twelve  miles  of  Roman  road,  which  in 
those  days  were  the  only  land  connection  between 
the  two  towns  (the  river  being  too  shallow 
for   anything   except   boats),  were   thronged   with 


291       BURIAL-PLACE   OF   SLAVONIANS 

travellers  and  the  rich  store  of  goods  from 
the  eastern  world.  This  Roman  street  issuing 
forth  from  the  south  gate  of  Winchester  follows 
a  straight  course  southward,  through  the 
villages  of  Compton  and  Otterbourne ;  and  to 
this  latter  place  the  modern  high-road  runs 
along  the  ancient  line,  as  may  be  seen  from  its 
inflexible  directness.  At  Otterbourne,  the  present 
highway,  bearing  slightly  to  the  right,  climbs 
a  steep  gravel  hill,  while  the  Roman  street, 
now  almost  entirely  obliterated,  continued  in 
a  straight  course,  passing  midw^ay  between  the 
present  railway  and  the  high-road,  till  it  reached 
the  two  Stonehams,  villages  a  Roman  mile 
apart.  Up  and  down  this  street  passed  the 
foreign  seamen  with  their  loads  of  merchandise; 
the  Slavonians  being  as  handy  and  as  regularly 
employed  in  this  work  as  in  that  of  navigating 
the  Venetian  galleys.  They  even  appear  to 
have  ventured,  more  boldly  than  prudently,  to 
penetrate  into  the  country  districts  with  packs 
of  goods,  acting  as  hawkers  and  traders  on  their 
own  account.  For  we  find  in  1499  ^ 
1  Venetian  State  Papers,  No.  782. 


AND   TO   SOUTHAMPTON  295 

"  that  a  few  days  before  some  of  the  galley- 
crews  were  travelling  through  the  country  hawking 
their  wares,  when  about  twenty  miles  from  South- 
aSnpton  three  of  them  were  attacked  by  high- 
waymen, who  killed  two  of  the  three.  The  king 
of  England  [Henry  VII.,  who  was  friendly 
towards  the  foreign  traders,  as  befitted  a  prince 
who  had  a  head  on  his  shoulders],  on  hearing  of 
the  mishap  from  the  captain  of  the  galleys, 
promptly  inquired  of  it,  captured  two  of  the 
robbers,  and  sent  them  to  Southampton,  where 
they  were  forthwith  hanged." 

It  was  for  the  sake  of  those  who  had  perished 
in  such  a  manner,  or  who  might  have  died  from 
natural  causes,  that  the  "Slavonian  School"  set 
itself  to  make  due  provision  for  a  burial-place, 
according  to  their  declared  duty,  "to  succour  the 
living,  and  find  an  honourable  resting-place  for 
their  dead."  And  this  they  appear  to  have  done 
by  getting  leave  either  to  build  or  to  take 
possession  of  this  north  aisle  of  North  Stoneham 
Church,  at  the  first  halting-ground  of  their  con- 
voys after  issuing  from  Southampton  J^argate. 

Why  should  they  have  pitched  on  this, 
rather  than  on  some  one  of  the  many  churches, 
apparently  so  much  more  handy  for  tliem,  within 


296       BURIAL-PLACE   OF   SLAVONIANS 

the  town  walls  ?  Clearly  because  relations  were 
so  strained  between  the  Venetians  and  the 
townsmen  of  Southampton,  and  the  dislike  felt 
for  the  foreigners  was  so  strong,  that  it  would 
have  been  very  difficult  for  them  to  get  possession 
of  a  church,  or  even  of  a  portion  of  a  church, 
inside  the  walls.  And  even  had  they  been  able 
to  get  such  a  chantry  chapel  of  their  own,  their 
tenure  of  it  would  have  been  always  most 
insecure ;  during  their  long  absences  no  one 
would  have  been  left  behind  to  protect  their 
Campo  Santo ;  their  dead  would  have  been 
exposed  to  insult  and  plunder  from  the  rude 
islanders.  They  had  no  factory  at  Southampton ; 
it  is  true  that  in  1495  one  Thomas  Oare  was 
their  consul  in  the  town ;  for  we  learn  that  he 
was  elected  to  and  confirmed  in  that  office  in 
1495 ;  but  there  is  no  trace  of  more  than 
this :  we  know  that  in  the  orders  given  from 
headquarters  the  shipmen  were  often  forbidden 
even  to  land  there.  Such  narrow  jealousy  on 
the  part  of  the  English,  whether  in  London  or 
Southampton,  against  men  who  brought  in  their 
train    prosperity    and    plenty,    was    unreasonable 


WHY    THEY    (HOSE   N.   STONEHAM      J297 

and  shortsighted,  and  did  much  to  quicken  the 
steady  loss  of  wealth  and  trade  which  the  records 
of  the  time  deplore  in  plaintive  terms,  as  if  our 
people  were  not  to  a  very  large  extent  the  causes 
of  their  own  depression.  This  jealousy  perhaps 
also  explains  the  fact  that  no  traces  of  these 
Slavonians  or  of  the  \"enetian  traffic  have  as  yet 
been  found  in  the  somewhat  abundant  records  of 
the  town  of  Southampton. 

Thus  debarred  from  having  their  chapel  in 
the  town,  the  seamen  naturally  looked  out  for 
some  quiet  place  on  their  line  of  route  at  which 
they  might  find  a  fitting  cemetery  for  their  dead. 
South  Stoneham,  through  which  they  passed 
after  leaving  the  town,  was  probably  not  avail- 
able, as  it  was  in  the  hands  of  the  monks  of 
St  Denys  in  the  suburbs ;  and  they  therefore 
went  on  a  Roman  mile,  and  paused  at  the  other 
Stoneham.  Here  they  secured  what  they  wanted. 
It  may  be  that  the  rector  of  the  parish,  who 
about  this  time  appears  to  have  been  engaged  in 
the  work  of  restoration  or  enlargement  of  his 
church,  was  glad  of  the  substantial  aid  which 
the    foreigners    could    give ;    he    may    too    have 


298       BURIAL-PLACE   OF  SLAVONIANS 

made  friends  with  them  as  they  passed  through, 
for  EngHshmen,  I  suppose,  are  not  all  brutes ;  and 
this  offer,  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  their 
guild,  to  build  or  beautify  at  their  own  charges 
the  north  aisle  of  the  church,  was  no  doubt 
willingly  accepted  by  the  good  priest.  And  so 
the  "  Sepultura  de  la  Schola  de  Sclavoni "  was 
established  at  North  Stoneham.  The  aisle  has 
in  it,  though  much  changed  since  that  time, 
touches  of  a  higher  art  than  is  commonly  to  be 
met  with  in  Hampshire  village  churches.  Thus, 
the  little  figures  which  stop  the  mouldings  round 
the  head  of  the  east  window  of  the  north  aisle  (if, 
indeed,  they  are  in  their  original  position,  which 
does  not  seem  to  be  quite  certain)  are  full  of  life 
and  vigour  of  treatment. 

The  work  done  by  the  Slavonians,  whatever 
it  may  have  been,  in  the  interior  of  this  aisle, 
has  all  disappeared.  Still,  we  may  be  sure  they 
gave  much  heed  to  it.  They  may  have  brought 
over,  in  those  brightest  days  of  Venetian  art,  some 
rich  picture  as  an  altar-piece,  from  which  as  they 
worshipped  they  drew  sweet  memories  of  the  sunny 
mistress  of  the  Adriatic,  their  adopted  home. 


THE   PERILS   THEY   UNDERWENT      209 

The  records  of  North  Stoneham  make  no 
reference  to  these  picturesque  strangers ;  they 
have  vanished  as  completely  as  the  Roman  road 
along  which  they  passed. 

That  they  really  needed  some  such  burying- 
place  is  clear;  many  were  the  perils  they  faced 
in  coming  to  England.  They  had  to  bear  the 
ill-will  of  Southampton  ;  in  the  open  country  there 
were  hungry  and  savage  highwaymen ;  the  Wars 
of  the  Roses  had  filled  the  land  with  lawless 
folk ;  maladies,  engendered  by  rough  living  aboard 
and  ashore,  were  rife,  and  went  under  the  con- 
venient general  name  of  the  Plague ;  even  the 
sea-coasts  were  infested  with  freebooters.  Only 
three  years  before  the  date  of  our  ledger-stone, 
the  Venetian  State  Papers  (No.  .547)  provide  us 
with  an  example  of  these  dangers; — 

"  On  Christmas  Day  (1488)  while  the  Doge  and 
the  Ambassadors  were  at  session  in  St  jNIark's, 
came  letters  from  I^ondon  addressed  to  Giovanni 
Frescobaldi,  the  Florentine  money-changer  and 
usurer,  under  date  of  Nov.  3rd,  wherein  it 
was  set  forth  that  the  Flanders  Galleys,  Piero 
Malepiero,  captain,  which  had  sailed  out  from 
Antwerp  for  Hampton  on  Oct.   26,  when  off  St 


300         BURIAL-PLACE   OF  SLAVONIANS 

Helen's  were  accosted  by  three  ships,  which 
bade  them  strike  saiL  The  galleys,  seeing  they 
were  English,  drew  nigh,  saying  they  were 
friends ;  whereon  the  English  tried  to  board  the 
galleys ;  but  Piero  blew  his  whistle  and  beat  to 
quarters,  and  so  drave  off  the  assailants,  slaying 
eighteen  of  them.  The  English  however  chased 
them  into  Hampton  harbourage.  Then  Piero 
wTote  to  the  King  of  England  to  deprecate  his 
anger ;  and  Henry  sent  down  to  him  my  Lord 
of  Winchester  (Bishop  Peter  Courtenay),  who 
bade  him  not  fear,  saying  that  those  who  had 
been  killed  must  bear  their  own  loss ;  and  that 
of  a  truth  a  pot  de  vin  (a  gratuity)  would  settle 
the  whole  affair." 

One  thing  about  the  ledger-stone  is  a  puzzle, 
the  very  thing  which  ought  to  have  thrown 
light  on  the  Slavonians.  What  is  the  meaning 
of  the  shield  with  a  double-headed  eagle?  It  is 
altogether  uncertain  to  whom  it  points.  The 
cognisance  perhaps  makes  us  think  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire  and  Maximilian  tJie  Penniless. 
In  the  Nuremherg  Chronicle^  then  just  printed, 
there  are  plenty  of  these  uncanny  birds.  In  fact, 
in  1491  it  might,  in  point  of  time,  indicate 
allegiance  to  the  empire ;  on  the  other  hand,  it  is 
certain   that   no   Slavonians   would   have   at    that 


THE   TWO-HEADED   EAGLE  301 

day  acknowledged  any  such  lordship.  And 
besides,  the  double-headed  eagle  was  then  more 
properly  Slavonic  than  Germanic. 

"  This  eagle,"  says  Mr  T.  Graham  Jackson, 
R.A.,  in  a  letter  in  reply  to  a  question  I 
asked  him,  "  was  the  badge  of  the  Nemagna 
dynasty  of  Servaa,  who  usurped  the  throne  in 
1150,  and  ruled  till  the  fatal  day  of  Kossovo  in 
1389.  The  Servians  never  had  a  fleet,  because, 
like  the  King  of  Bohemia  with  the  seven  castles, 
they  never  had  a  seaboard.  The  doiible-headed 
eagle  is  now  borne  by  the  Prince  of  Montenegro, 
who  aspires  to  represent  the  old  empire  of 
Stephen  Dushan.  But  they  only  date  from 
Kossovo,  or  rather  from  1510,  so  far  as  the 
present  dynasty  is  concerned,  and  of  course 
they  never  had  any  seaport  till  the  treaty  of 
Berlin  the  other  day.  Austria  cannot  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  it.  She  had  no  footing  in 
Dalmatia  till  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formio,  and 
never  even  appears  in  Dalmatian  history." 

I  cannot  lielp  thinking  that  these  poor  sea- 
men, feeling  quite  improtected  in  England, 
knowing  that  this  eagle  was  a  true  Slavonian 
badge,  though  not  properly  theirs,  and  finding 
that  in  those  days  it  was  very  much  respected 
in   England,  as   connoting   in    English  minds  the 


302       BURIAL-PLACE   OF   SLAVONIANS 

empire  under  Frederick  IV.,  boldly  carved  it  on 
their  ledger-stone  as  a  protecting  symbol. 

The  use  of  this  little  campo  santo  by  the 
Slavonians  cannot  have  lasted  long.  Changes  in 
the  commercial  routes,  new  relations  between  East 
and  West,  the  steady  downfall  of  the  prosperity 
of  Southampton  and  Winchester,  made  it  less  and 
less  tempting  for  the  Venetians  to  visit  England. 
Ere  long  the  unfriendly  shores  of  Southampton 
saw  the  last  of  our  Slavonians.  Their  fleet  set 
sail  thence  for  the  last  time  on  22nd  of  May, 
1532 ;  and,  though  single  ships  put  in  from  time 
to  time,  by  the  days  of  Edward  W.  "  the  galleys 
of  Venice  and  the  carreckes  of  Jeane  (Genoa) 
had  altogether  ceased  to  visit  that  port." 

Thus  the  Slavonians  made  use  of  their 
"sepultura"  for  only  about  forty  years.  After 
that  time  this  "  burying-place  to  bury  strangers 
in"  remained  deserted,  till  in  the  days  after 
the  Reformation,  we  know  not  when,  it  was 
thrown  into  the  church,  and  the  separate 
chantry  with  its  altar  and  ornaments  disappeared. 

And  so  ends  this  dim  little  episode  in  the 
mediaeval  trade  relations  between  England  and 
the  East. 


IX 

THE   FONT   IN   WINCHESTER 
CATHEDRAL 

There  is,  strictly  speaking,  no  evidence  as  to 
the  history  of  this  font.  It  has  long  exer- 
cised the  ingenuity  of  antiquaries ;  many  have 
been  the  conjectures  and  suggestions  respecting  it. 
In  the  absence  of  direct  proof,  documentary  or 
other,  I  fear  that  after  all  this  paper  can  only  deal 
with  the  probabilities  of  the  case,  and  the  conclu- 
sions drawn  cannot  boast  of  scientific  certainty. 

I  have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  receive  most 
generous  help  from  Miss  Swann,  niece  and 
heiress  of  that  learned  archaeologist.  Professor 
Westwood.  Acting  on  his  suggestion,  Miss 
Swann  had  collected  materials  for  a  monograph 
on  the  group  of  fonts  of  which  ours  is  the 
most     remarkable     example.       The      Professor's 

803 


304  FONT   IN   WINCHESTER   CATHEDRAL 

death  obliged  her  to  lay  aside,  for  a  time  at 
least,  her  projected  work ;  and  with  a  liberality 
for  which  I  cannot  be  too  grateful,  she  has 
allowed  me  to  see  and  use  her  papers  and 
drawings :  these  have  given  me  the  clue  to 
the  origin  of  the  font,  and  have  enabled  me 
to  work  out  the  subject.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  without  her  help  this  paper  could 
not  have  been  written. 

As  we  know  of  no  documentary  evidence, 
we  must  fall  back  on  such  data  as  the  font 
itself  supplies.  These  may  be  enumerated  under 
the  following  heads: — (1)  The  material  of 
which  it  is  made;  (2)  the  shape  and  form  of 
it;  (3)  the  subjects  carv^ed  on  it;  (4)  details 
of  the  sculpture ;  (5)  comparison  with  other 
fonts  belonging  to  the  same  group. 

(1)  What  is  the  stone  of  which  the 
AVinchester  font  is  made  ?  It  is  clear  that  if 
we  can  trace  it  to  the  quarry  we  shall  have 
made  a  long  step  towards  the  solution  of  our 
problem.  The  material  is  a  very  dark  stone, 
almost  black,  with  a  bluish  tinge  about  it.  It 
is   very   hard   and   close-grained.     It    used   to   be 


OF   WHAT   STONE   IS   IT?  305 

called  "basaltic."  This,  however,  is  a  mistake. 
There  is  no  basaltic  character  about  it.  It 
has  also  been  pronounced,  by  a  learned 
geologist,  to  be  slate-stone  from  Derbyshire. 
That  dangerous  man  worked  at  a  fracture  with 
his  knife,  and  before  I  could  interfere  with  him, 
succeeded  in  detaching  a  small  piece  about  the 
size  of  a  child's  finger-nail.  He  discovered 
evidence  of  lamination  in  it,  and  concluded 
that  it  was  "a  hard  black  slate."  Another 
scientific  person  appHed  the  test  of  acid  to  the 
Southampton  font,  and,  seeing  effervescence, 
declared  it  to  be  "a  very  hard  limestone-rock." 
Others  call  it  "a  black  marble " ;  and,  as 
geologists  define  marble  as  "any  kind  of  lime- 
stone which  will  readily  take  a  poHsh,"  and 
our  font  is  susceptible  of  a  high  polish,  the 
last  two  suggestions  may  be  regarded  as  one 
and  the  same. 

Messrs  Farmer  and  Brindley  were  consulted 
on  the  point,  and  their  kind  reply  was  that 
"Mr  Brindley"  (who  is  one  of  our  chief 
authorities  on  stones)   "thinks  it  probably  is  one 

of  the   picked    beds   of   hlack    marble  which   are 

U 


306  FONT  IN   WINCHESTER   CATHEDRAL 

found  in  Ireland  and  Belgium."  "  He  does 
not  think  it  at  all  likely  that  the  material  is 
slate";  and  referring  to  the  point  of  lamination, 
he  adds  that  "a  great  deal  of  the  old  paving  of 
London,  usually  called  slate,  comes  from  the 
thin  beds  of  black  marble  found  in  Belgium, 
which  are  somewhat  laminated." 

Finally,  I  ventured  to  apply  a  little  acetic 
acid  to  one  of  the  unrubbed  portions  of  the 
surface  (where  it  could  do  no  harm),  with  the 
result  that  a  slight  effervescence  at  once  took 
place.  The  bubbles  which  came  up  and  burst 
may  be  safely  taken  as  confirmation  of  the 
belief  that  there  is  lime  in  the  stone. 

We  may,  therefore,  lay  it  down  as  certain 
that  it  is  a  black  or  bluish-black  marble.  Now 
beds  of  this  kind  of  marble  are  still  being  won 
from  the  quarries  at  Tournay  in  Hainault. 
These  quarries  lie  in  the  hills  along  the  course 
of  the  river  Scheldt,  which  is  navigable  for 
craft  of  a  fair  size  all  the  way  from  Tournay 
to  Ghent,  and  thence  to  the  sea  below 
Antwerp. 

(2)  As  to  the  form  of  the  font,  which   is   the 


THE  SUBJECTS  CARVED  ON  IT    mi 

general  shape  of  the  group,  it  consists  of  a 
nearly  square  block  of  stone  supported  on  a 
massive  central  column,  with  four  smaller  dis- 
engaged columns  at  the  angles. 

(3)  The   subjects    carved    on   it   will   help    us 
materially    towards    the    approximate    aate.       On 
the    spandrils    of    the    top    are    carved    symbolic 
subjects ;    on    two    sides,    leaves    and    flowers,    or 
grapes ;     on    the     other    two     sides,    two     doves 
drinking    out   of   a    vase,    from    which    issues    a 
cross  —  subjects   denoting    baptism.      These,   and 
the  medallions  on  the  east  and  north   faces,  tend 
to  give   an   impression  of  high   antiquity   to   the 
font,  and   are    clearly   traditional,    indicating   that 
at  the  place  where  the  stone  was  worked  certain 
well-defined  types  of  symbols  were  in  use.     This 
symbolism  agrees  perfectly  well  with  the  develop- 
ment  of  sculptural    art    at    Toiu*nay,    where,    we 
are   told    by    M.    L,     Cloquet    (in   his   admirable 
guide-book,  "Tournai  et  le  Tournaisis,"  p,  41)  the 
carved   work    of  the   twelfth    century   is   remark- 
able  for    "  des    sculptures    toutes   conventionelles 
et   plus  ou    moins   bizarres   dans   leur  mysterieux 
symholisme,'' 


308  FONT   IN   WINCHESTER   CATHEDRAL 

The  bas-reliefs  on  the  west  and  south  faces 
of  our  font  are  far  more  helpful.  Bishop 
Milner,  over  a  century  ago,  pointed  out  that 
they  depict  the  miracles  of  St  Nicolas  of  Myra ; 
but  it  did  not  occur  to  him  to  connect  this  dis- 
covery, as  he  might  well  have  done,  with  the 
date  of  the  work.  It  so  happens  that  the  subject 
of  St  Nicolas  limits  the  period  somewhat 
closely,  and  shows  that  the  old  view  as  to 
the  high  Byzantine  antiquity  of  the  font  is 
untenable. 

In  1087  Italian  merchants  trading  with  the 
East  brought  over  to  Bari,  on  the  South  Adriatic 
coast  of  Italy,  beside  their  ordinary  merchandise, 
the  bones  of  St  Nicolas.  Bari  received  the  holy 
visitor  with  great  devotion,  and  the  Cathedral 
became  at  once  a  noted  thaumaturgic  centre. 
As  it  lay  in  the  world's  highway,  the  Saint's 
fame  spread  rapidly  across  Europe,  and  he  at 
once  became  the  fashion  as  a  popular  subject 
of  legend  and  of  art,  the  kinsman  of  legend. 
Churches  also  in  considerable  numbers  were 
dedicated  to  him  in  the  West  in  the  twelfth 
and  following  centuries.     In  England  alone  there 


00 


b^ 


O 


to 


.3 

o 


_Jl 


J 


ST  NICOLAS   OF   MYRA  309 

were  three  hundred  and  sixty-two  churches  of 
St  Nicolas.  Presently  this  enthusiasm  for  the 
Saint  found  place  in  literature,  and  we  find  the 
story  of  the  raising  of  the  three  youths  (one  of 
the  subjects  portrayed  on  this  font)  taken  as 
the  groundwork  of  a  "  Mystery "  written  by  an 
EngHsh  Benedictine  monk,  named  Hilary,  in  the 
year  1125.^  Wace  also,  the  Anglo-Norman  poet 
(who  flourished  about  the  middle  of  the  twelfth 
century),  composed  a  Life  of  St  Nicolas  in  old 
French  and  old  English.  The  tale  thus  having 
spread  with  evident  signs  of  popularity,  it  is 
natural  that  attempts  to  express  the  incidents  of 
it  in  stone  should  speedily  follow;  and  one  of 
these  efforts  we  find  on  the  font.  We  may  say 
with  some  confidence  that  this  development  of 
the  legend  cannot  have  been  earlier  than  the 
middle  of  the  twelfth  century,  and  there  is  good 
ground  for  thinking  that  it  does  not  belong  to  a 
later  time  than  the  year  1200. 

(4)    1   have  already  hinted  that  our  font  was 

1  "Hilarii  Versus  et  ludi."  Lut.  Paris.  Techener,  1838.— 
"  Origines  latines  du  theatre  moderne,"  Paris,  1849.—"  Molanus 
de  imaginibus,  cum  uotis  Paquot,"  p.  388. 


310  FONT  IN  WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL 

carved  in  Hainault.  Now  Count  Robert  of 
Flanders,  with  his  Belgian  followers,  returned 
from  Crusade  at  the  very  end  of  the  eleventh 
century.  They,  no  doubt,  brought  with  them 
details  as  to  the  wonder-worker  of  Bari ;  and 
this  may  also  be  a  date- indication. 

Another  point  in  the  proof  is  this :  the  archi- 
tecture on  this  font  and  on  that  at  Zedelghem 
is  the  "  florid  Romance  "  (  "  le  Roman  fleure  "  ) 
which  flourished  in  the  transition  between  the 
severer  Norman  and  the  "  ogival  Gothic "  which 
followed  it.  This  also  points  to  the  twglfth 
century. 

On  the  Zedelghem  font  (on  which  there  are 
distinct  post-Norman  architectural  features)  a 
knight  stands  at  each  angle,  bearing  a  shield 
emblazoned  with  a  coat  of  arms ;  and  these 
emblazonments  did  not  come  into  use  till  after 
the  first  Crusade,  at  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth 
century.  The  Norman  gentleman,  with  hawk  in 
hand,  who  stands  on  the  south  face  of  the 
Winchester  font,  also  belongs  to  about  the  same 
period. 

The    mitre   worn   by    St   Nicolas   provides   us 


THE   BISHOP'S   MITRE  311 

with  by  far  the  best  evidence  of  date.  Mabillon 
points  out  that  the  mitre,  as  part  of  a  bishop's 
official  dress,  was  not  recognised  till  the  very 
end  of  the  eleventh  century.  It  sprang  out  of 
a  flat  kind  of  cap,  and  was  at  first  very  low.  In 
the  earliest  examples  extant  (as  that  of  Bishop 
Ulger  of  Angers,  a.d.  1149)  the  mitre  is 
depressed  in  the  middle,  over  the  brows,  and 
rises  into  two  low  horns  over  the  ears.  This  is 
the  "mitra  corniculata."  After  a  time  fashion 
changed,  and  the  mitre  was  worn  with  one  peak 
directly  over  the  nose,  and  the  lowest  part  over  the 
ears.  This  change  shows  itself  in  the  latter  half 
of  the  twelfth  century,  and  is  the  mark  of  transi- 
tion from  the  low  to  the  high  mitre,  from  the 
"  corniculata  "  to  the  "  bifida '" ;  and  the  tall  mitre 
is  found  in  use  early  in  the  thirteenth  century. 
On  this  font,  though  the  carving  leaves  a  little 
doubt  on  the  point,  it  will,  I  think,  be  generally 
agreed  that  the  three  mitres  all  have  the 
blunt  point  over  the  nose,  and  therefore  belong 
to  the  close  of  the  twelfth  century.  We 
are  thus  brought,  in  another  way,  to  the  same 
result. 


312  FONT   IN   WINCHESTER   CATHEDRAL 

If  it  is  urged  that  the  sculpture  wears  too 
archaic  a  look  for  that  period,  we  may  reply 
that  the  hardness  of  the  material  helps  largely 
to  give  this  look  of  age  to  the  work;  and  also, 
that  in  the  district  in  which  the  font  was  carved, 
certain  art- traditions  may  have  still  been  strong; 
also,  that  forms  of  art  and  symbols  of  an  archaic 
character  may  have  been  introduced  there  by 
the  Crusaders. 

(5)  We  may  now  pass  on  to  consider  the 
school  or  class  of  fonts,  and  see  whether  we  can 
extract  any  useful  hints  from  others  of  the 
series.  They  are  all  made  of  the  same  black 
marble,  and  all  present  marked  similarities  of 
subject  and  workmanship.  M.  Paul  Saintenoy, 
in  his  Prolego'menes  a  Vetude  de  Vaffiliation  des 
formes  des  fonts  haptismaux,  has  provided  us 
with  a  good  list  of  this  class. 

Of  this  stone  are  made  the  following  fonts, 
which  form  the  group  of  which  this  is  the  most 
interesting  example : — 

I.  In  Belgium     .        •    (1)  Zedelghem,  near  Bruges 

„  .        .     (2)  Termonde  (Dendermonde),  not  far 

from  Ghent 


THE   BLACK   MARBLE   FONTS 


313 


II.  In  Northern  France 


III.  In  England 


(3)  Noiron  le  Vineaux,  near  Laon 

(4)  St  Just  in  the  "  Oise,"  on  the  Rail- 
way between  Amiens  and  Paris 

(5)  Winchester  Cathedral        ^ 

(6)  East  Meon  I 

(7)  St  Michael's,  Southampton  |  Hants  ^ 

(8)  St  Mary  Bourne  J 

(9)  Lincoln  Cathedral      J  Lincolnshire 

(10)  Thornton  Curtis        f 

(11)  St  Peter's,  Ipswich 

In  the  first  place,  the  dispersion  of  these 
black  fonts — two  in  Northern  France,  two  in 
Belgium,  and  several  near  the  sea  in  England — 
seems  to  indicate  a  point  neither  English  nor 
French  but  Belgian  for  their  origin ;  and  with 
this  the  evidence  of  the  Tournay  quarries  agrees. 
This  dark  Hmestone-marble  is  a  rare  stone,  and 
is  known  to  have  been  early  exported  to 
England  from  that  place.  It  still  exists,  we  are 
told,  as  pavement  in  the  streets  of  London. 

Through  the  kindness  of  Miss   Swann    I    am 

able    to    reproduce     a    careful    drawing     of    the 

font  at  Zedelghem,  near   Bruges,  from  which  we 

^  It  appears  that  the  original  font  in  Romsey  Abbey  Church, 
Hants,  was  also  one  of  this  series.  When  that  Church  was 
unfortunately  "restored,"  about  half  a  century  ago,  the  old  font, 
being  in  a  bad  state,  was  broken  up  and  thrown  away. 


314  FONT   IN   WINCHESTER   CATHEDRAL 

see  clearly  how  close  is  the  relation  between  it 
and  that  at  ^Vinchester.  We  see  at  once  how 
correct  is  M.  Saintenoy  when  he  says  that  "  Les 
fonts  baptismaux  de  Lincoln  et  de  Winchester 
ont  la  meme  origine  beige  et  tournaisienne. 
Pour  ceux  de  Winchester,  c'est  incontestable " ; 
and  again,  "Les  fonts  de  Winchester  .  .  . 
presentent  avec  ceux  de  Zedelghem  et  de 
Termonde  des  analogies  telles  qu'il  n'est  pas 
possible  de  douter  de  leur  origine  commune. 
C'est  frappant." 

Let  us  for  a  moment  compare  the  two, 
Winchester  and  Zedelghem.  It  will  be  seen 
that  they  are  not  mere  copies  of  one  another, 
but  independent  works ;  carved,  however,  at  the 
same  time  and  by  the  same  hand.  In  the 
Zedelghem  font  all  the  four  short  columns  at 
the  angles  are  carved  with  spiral  ribs  or  twists : 
so  are  two  of  the  Winchester  columns.  It  looks 
as  if  the  other  two  had  been  replaced  at  some 
time  by  two  plain  and  uncarved  pillars.  The 
large  central  column  is  identical  in  both.  The 
line-ornament  on  the  bases  is  the  same,  though 
the   Zedelghem   font  has   also   heads  at   the  four 


'Jhc     l-'iillt      ,11      AcUcl^i^lu-lll.     IHMl-     lillt-'l-S 


[v  "  j'lio'  iiiiijc  ol  1. 


THE  ZEDELGHEM   FONT  315 

angles,  these  having  no  parallels  at  Winchester. 
The  bas-reliefs  offer  the  nearest  resemblance. 
Both  portray  St  Nicolas ;  both  treat  his  legend 
in  the  same  way,  though  with  interesting  varia- 
tions of  detail  and  arrangement.  The  two  ships, 
with  those  in  them,  are  almost  identical  in  shape, 
rigging,  and  ornament,  with  the  same  heads  of 
beasts  at  bow  and  stern.  But  while  tlie  Zedel- 
ghem  ship  shows  no  steering  gear,  ours  has  a 
very  interesting  and  modern-looking  rudder,  over 
the  tiller  of  which  the  steerman  has  his  arm. 
The  ships  seem  to  indicate  that  the  carver  had 
before  him  some  drawing  or  model  of  a  ship 
which  he,  in  the  inland  town,  copied  with 
exactitude;  but,  being  unfamiliar  with  shipping, 
in  one  case  forgot  the  rudder.  The  king's  son, 
at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  is  seen  on  both  fonts. 
At  Zedelghem  he  throws  his  arms  out ;  at 
Winchester  he  clasps  the  ftital  cup  of  gold. 
There  are  strong  resemblances  between  the 
buildings  shown  on  both  fonts  ;  they  are  said  to 
be  meant  for  the  cathedral  churcli  at  Myra  in 
Lycia.  The  legend  of  the  three  young  men  is 
very    similarly   treated,   though    the    arrangement 


316  FONT  IN   WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL 

of  the  figures  is  different.  The  executioner 
with  his  axe,  and  the  female  figure  behind  him, 
have  most  minute  resemblances  in  dress.  The 
Zedelghem  font  places  this  incident  in  a  remark- 
able late  Norman  architectural  setting,  which  is 
altogether  wanting  at  Winchester.  And  lastly, 
the  dowering  of  the  three  poor  virgins,  though 
differently  treated,  is  on  both.  The  conclusion  is 
irresistible, — the  two  fonts  came  out  of  the  same 
workshop,  and  were  probably  both  carved  by  the 
same  hand. 

There  is  a  similar  striking  resemblance 
between  the  font  at  St  Michael's,  Southampton, 
and  that  at  Dendermonde,  not  far  from  Ghent, 
the  ornamentation  of  the  two  being  almost 
identical. 

Where  then  were  these  fonts,  so  remarkable 
and  so  interesting  a  group,  carved  ?  Everything 
points  to  one  spot — Tournay  in  Hainault.  The 
stone  can  certainly  be  traced  to  the  beds  of 
dark,  calcareous  marble  still  quarried  along 
the  banks  of  the  Scheldt,  above  and  below 
Tournay.  The  lines  of  distribution  agree  with 
Tournay     as     a     centre ;     and     the    artistic    and 


THE   TOURNAY   QUARRIES  317 

commercial  history  of  that  city  strongly  confirms 
our  contention. 

At  Tournay  there  was  a  very  remarkable 
early  school  of  stone  carving,  the  influence  of 
which  can  be  traced  far  and  wide.  "  Les  monu- 
ments de  Tournay "  ( says  a  writer  in  the 
Messager  des  Sciences,  etc.,  de  la  Belgique,  the 
Belgian  archaeological  journal)  "  sont  les  incun- 
ables  de  larcheologie  de  I'ouest  de  I'Europe.  lis 
sont  a  la  Gaule  septentrionale  et  a  la  Germanic 
ce  que  sont  les  monuments  de  Byzance  a 
I'empire  de  I'Orient."  And  M.  Cloquet  tells  us 
that  as  early  as  the  eleventh  century  there  was 
well  established  at  Tournay  "  a  school  of  art 
which  taught  the  Lombard  style,  and  became 
renowned  far  and  wide."^ 

The  new  choir  of  Tournay  Cathedral  was 
begun  in  the  bluestone  of  the  district  in  the 
year  1110,  and  was  not  completed  till  eighty 
years  later.  The  transepts  were  built  about  the 
same  time,  and  remain  still,  though  the  choir 
has  given  place  to  a  fine  specimen  of  later  archi- 
tecture. The  Cathedral,  a  noble  structure  with 
1  "  Tournai  et  le  Touruaisis,"  p.  37. 


318  FONT   IN   WINCHESTER   CATHEDRAL 

five  Romanesque  towers,  shows  everywhere  that 
in  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries  Tournay 
had  a  very  vigorous  school  of  sculptors  in  the 
hard  stone  of  the  district.  Their  work  takes 
mainly  the  form  of  hassi-relievi,  executed  in 
a  somewhat  naive  and  simple  style.  In  the 
decoration  of  doorways,  etc.  (mainly  twelfth- 
century  work),  we  find  many  points  of  artistic 
work  like  that  of  the  carvings  on  the  Winchester 
font. 

There  is  yet  another  way  in  which  we  can 
with  much  probability  attach  this  font  to 
Tournay :  the  point  has  already  been  touched 
on  in  this  paper.  This  is  the  distribution  of 
Tournay  work,  and  the  way  by  which  it 
reached  England. 

The  chief  period  of  vigorous  art-life  at 
Tournay  may  be  said  to  begin  from  a.d.  1146, 
when  Pope  Eugenius  III.  reconstituted  the 
bishopric,  disconnecting  the  city  and  territory 
from  the  diocese  of  Noyon  in  France.  The 
place  had  a  full  share  of  those  troubles  which 
were  inevitable  for  a  city  standing  on  the  very 
frontier-line  between    France  and   the   Provinces, 


DISTRIBUTION   OF  THESE   WORKS     319 

This  precarious  position,  however,  was  favourable 
to  the  distribution  of  Tournaisian  art. 

The  Scheldt  at  Tournay,  a  considerable  river, 
navigable  for  small  ships,  was  the  roadway  by 
which  the  bulky  products  of  the  marble  quarries 
were  transported  north  and  south.  There  are 
many  proofs  of  the  extension  of  Tournay  art 
and  architecture :  wherever  works  of  skill  and 
delicacy  were  needed,  Tournay  men  were  sent 
for,  and  the  Tournay  artisans  seem  to  have  liked 
to  travel  with  their  own  materials.  This  is 
strikingly  illustrated  at  Bruges,  where  even  the 
streets  were  paved  with  the  black  stone  from 
the  quarries ;  and  where,  a  little  later  than  our 
period,  the  Tournay  brothers  V'dn  Boghem  came 
with  their  skill  and  their  marble  to  build  the 
apsidal  chapels  of  the  Church  of  St  Saviour. 
A  certain  type  of  window,  not  imcommon  at 
Bruges,  was  styled  "  la  fenetre  tournaisienne." 

The  stone  was  brought  from  the  Scheldt  to 
Ghent,  and  carried  thence  by  road  or  canal  in 
different  directions.  Thus  the  blue  marble  fonts 
were  distributed,  one  at  13endermonde  eastward, 
the  other  at  Zedelghem  westward,  from   Ghent ; 


320  FONT   IN   WINCHESTER   CATHEDRAL 

and  from  Ghent  down  the  Scheldt  to  the  sea 
went  those  fonts  which  were  destined  for 
England.  One  such  shipment  we  can  trace  to 
the  Lincolnshire  coast  (probably  some  point  on 
the  Wash),  whence  it  was  forwarded  inland  by 
water.  In  this  way  the  font  at  Thornton  Curtis 
(not  far  from  the  coast)  and  that  in  Lincoln 
Cathedral,  both  of  them  specimens  of  this  twelfth 
century  art  in  Tournay  stone,  arrived  on  our 
coasts.  Another  shipment  took  a  more  southerly 
line,  and  reached  Southampton,  along  the  trade- 
route  followed  by  the  Venetian  galleys.  This 
consignment  of  fonts  was  probably  bought  in 
the  lump  by  one  of  the  Bishops  of  Winchester, 
for  there  are  four  of  the  series  in  Hampshire, 
all  placed  in  churches  closely  connected  with 
the  Bishop,  viz.,  the  cathedral  church,  and  the 
three  twelfth-century  churches  of  St  Michael, 
Southampton,  East  Meon,  and  St  Mary  Bourne, 
all  in  the  Bishop's  gift. 

Commercial  relations  between  Belgium  and 
England  had  been  much  quickened  by  the  first 
Crusade.  It  had  infused  new  qualities  into  art ; 
new   subjects    became    popular,   new   fashions    of 


WHO    GAVE    IT?  321 

work  arose.  Our  earlier  Norman  architecture 
had  been  severe,  almost  devoid  of  ornament. 
In  the  twelfth  century  much  elaborate  carving 
was  introduced,  as  different  from  the  finer  art 
of  the  Early  English  (or  First  Pointed)  churches 
as  it  was  from  the  rude  sculpture  of  the  earlier 
Norman. 

If  it  be  urged  against  Tournay  that  these 
fonts  are  not  now  found  there  and  in  the 
Tournaisis,  there  is  an  easy  reply.  There  is 
hardly  a  church  in  the  district  which  has  not 
been  rebuilt  in  modern  times. 

We  cannot  tell  whether  these  Tournay  fonts 
in  Hampshire  were  wrought  to  order,  or  whether 
they  were  brought  round,  after  the  manner  of 
the  commerce  of  that  day,  by  itinerant 
merchants.  They  were  very  bulky  for  the 
average  trader.  But  we  may  venture  to  guess 
at  the  name  of  the  person  who  gave  these  four 
fonts.  It  can  only  be  a  guess.  I  have  shown 
that  it  apparently  was  one  of  the  Bishops  of 
Winchester.  Now  between  1150  and  1200  there 
were  only  three  Bishops  of  Winchester  :  Henry  of 
Blois,    A.D.    1129-71;    Richard    Toclive,    1174-88; 

X 


B22  FONT   IN   WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL 

and  Godfrey  Lucy,  1189  -  1204.  Of  these, 
Godfrey  Lucy  may  be  omitted,  as  we  know  that 
he  was  "a  modern  man,"  devoted  to  the  new 
*' Early  English"  style  then  coming  in.  He 
would  not  have  cared  for  these  archaic-looking 
pieces  of  sculpture.  It  lies,  then,  between 
Henry  of  Blois  and  Richard  Tochve.  Tochve 
left  behind  him  St  Mary  Magdalene  Hospital, 
which  (though  now  unhappily  swept  away)  is 
known  to  have  been  profusely  ornamented  in 
the  late  Norman  style  of  art ;  and  the  shape 
and  position  of  the  mitres  on  our  fonts  point 
to  a  time  late  in  the  twelfth  century.  So  that 
the  donor  may  well  have  been  Richard  of 
Ilchester,  1174-88.  On  the  other  hand,  Henry 
of  Blois  is  known  to  have  been  a  very 
munificent  lover  of  foreign  art.  He  collected 
things  ancient  and  modern ;  he  enriched  his 
churches,  notably  the  Cathedral.  "Nemo  .  .  . 
in  rebus  ecclesiasticis  augendis  vel  decorandis 
soUicitior."  ^  We  must,  therefore,  conclude  that 
either  this  splendid  Prelate,  King  Stephen's 
brother,  or  his  successor.  Bishop  Richard,  has  the 
^   Winchester  AniiaU,  s.  a.  1171. 


PERHAPS   HENRY   OF   BLOIS  323 

credit  of  having  recognised  the  beauty  of  these 
black  stone  fonts,  and  of  having  placed  them  in 
our  midst. 

We  may  venture  now  to  sum  up  these  in- 
dications. Our  black  marble  font  is  of  Belgian 
origin,  coming  from  the  Tournay  quarries.  It 
was  carved  at  Tournay  somewhere  between  the 
years  1150  and  1200,  probably  between  1170- 
1200.  It  has  its  twin-brother  at  Zedelghem, 
near  Bruges ;  and  we  owe  it,  with  the  others  of 
the  group,  either  to  Henry  of  Blois  or  Richard 
(Toclive)  of  Ilchester. 

Few  fonts  have  done  so  little  work.  In 
monastic  days  baptisms  were  naturally  a  matter 
of  no  great  interest  to  the  Benedictines  in  charge 
of  a  Cathedral  Church.  They  had  no  use  for 
it  themselves,  and  would  scarcely  have  allowed 
the  common  folk  of  the  c;ity  to  have  their  babes 
christened  in  it ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  great 
personages,  as  we  see  in  the  account  of  the 
baptism  of  Prince  Arthur  in  1486,  did  not 
condescend  to  make  use  of  it.  Since  the  Refor- 
mation it  has  been  used  by  a  few  famiUes  living 
in  or  connected  with  the  Close ;  even  so,  the  use 


324  FONT  IN   WINCHESTER   CATHEDRAL 

of  it  has  been  very  rare.  It  is,  therefore,  doubt- 
ful whether  before  this  present  font  the  Cathedral 
had  one  at  all.  At  the  west  end  of  the  nave, 
against  the  last  pier  on  the  north  side,  where 
the  holy  water- stoup  stood,  may  still  be  seen 
the  base-stone  of  a  small  font  of  early  date. 
The  displaced  earlier  font,  if  there  was  one  at  all, 
may  have  been  put  here  afterwards,  and  used 
as   the   holy   water- basin. 

The  subject  of  these  blue  marble  fonts  is  one 
of  considerable  interest,  which  would  well  repay 
further  investigation.  These  pages,  inconclusive 
perhaps,  and  circumstantial  only,  are  written  as 
an  attempt  to  clear  up,  if  not  completely,  at 
least  in  great  part,  the  puzzles  which  have  so 
long  surrounded  that  well-known  "crux  anti- 
quariorum,"  the  font  of  Winchester  Cathedral. 


X 

AN   ADDRESS   ON   BISHOP   BUTLER 

{Given  in  Durham  Cathedral  at  the  Uywdling  of  his  Memorial 

Tablet,  March  1899) 

In  my  young  days  there  was  a  story  current  in 
the  North,  to  the  effect  that  once  Dr  Chalmers, 
attended  by  a  zealous  young  minister,  came  to 
visit  Durham.  And  as  he  passed  from  point  to 
point,  his  friend  was  moved  to  inveigh  sharply 
against  the  wealth,  splendour,  and  unapostolic 
pomp  of  the  Bishopric.  Chalmers  turned  to  him, 
and  stopped  his  flow  of  words  with  the  simple 
remark  that  "if  by  such  wealth  the  English 
Church  could  produce  so  great  a  man  as  Butler, 
and  so  great  a  work  as  the  '  Analogy,'  the 
money  was  very  well  laid  out." 

No  doubt   the   rejoinder   was   not   conclusive ; 
for  Butler  pubHshed  the  "Analogy"  in  1736,  and 


326     AN   ADDRESS   ON   BISHOP   BUTLER 

did  not  become  Bishop  of  Durham  till  1750. 
Dm-ing  his  episcopacy  he  pubUshed  nothing  save 
one  Charge,  which  gave  occasion  to  a  foolish 
assertion  that  in  heart  at  least  he  died  a  Roman 
Catholic.  One  thing  is  quite  certain,  that  the 
Bishop  in  his  failing  health,  during  these  last 
twenty  months  of  his  life  (for  this  was  the 
whole  extent  of  his  tenure  of  the  Durham 
Bishopric),  was  as  little  a  Romanist  as  he  was 
a  sort  of  eighteenth-century  classical  demigod, 
"  wafted  to  that  See,"  as  Sir  Horace  Walpole 
absurdly  said,  "in  a  cloud  of  metaphysics,  and 
remained  absorbed  in  it."  He  was  indeed  a 
simple  and  modest  gentleman,  retired,  and  en- 
joying simple  hospitalities— his  "joint  and  single 
pudding,"  to  which  he  would  set  his  guests 
down ;  generous  towards  the  Durham  people : 
a  man  of  a  simple  and  devout  life,  caring  nought 
for  wealth,  save  that  it  let  him  help  a  friend,  or 
gave  him  the  means  to  rebuild  some  tottering  front 
of  his  ancient  castle  on  Durham  hill,  or  in  the  open 
glades  of  Auckland ;  and  caring  still  less  for  show 
and  pomp,  a  disappointment  to  the  Walpoles,  and 
the  procession-loving  starers  of  these  Northern  parts. 


THE   "ANALOGY"    WHERE   WRITTEN  327 

Though  the  ''  Analogy^  then,  did  not  spring 
out  of  the  Bishopric,  it  certainly  had  its  birth  in 
the  County   of  Durham.     You   may  still   see   at 
Stanhope,  across  the  valley,  and  just  over  against 
the    Rectory,    a    house    to    which    Butler    often 
retired,  to  think  and  to  write.     After  the  mental 
strain   of  Queen   Caroline's   suppers,  where   most 
religious   problems   of  the   time    were   freely  dis- 
cussed from  every  side  with  a  due  and  pleasing 
toleration,   Stanhope   seemed   to    Butler   the  very 
place  for  the  solution  of  the  many  difficulties  of 
the  time ;    here   he   had   means   and   leisure,  and 
time   to   work    out   his    problems.     And    here   it 
was   that   his  great  work  was  thought  out.     The 
most  striking  element  in  the   "  Analogy ''   is  the 
coherent    distinctness    with    which    one    leading 
thought   is   developed   into    a    system.     Whether 
we    accept    the     "  Analogy "     as    a    masterpiece, 
or,    as     is     now     too     often     the     case,     pounce 
only    on    the    open     and     obvious    faults    of    it, 
all    must   recognise    the    strength    and   compact- 
ness   of   this    somewhat    low-levelled    theory    of 
man,   this   pallid    reflection    of    the   nobler  forms 
of   Christianity,    as    they    are    seen    through    the 


328     AN   ADDRESS   ON   BISHOP  BUTLER 

dim   light    of    uncertain    probabilities    and   misty 
guides  of  life. 

Butler's  critics  fall  into  the  usual  fault  of 
those  who  make  no  allowances  for  the  different 
circumstances  in  which  a  man  lived.  They  treat 
him  as  if  he  lived  in  our  unthinking  days,  they 
forget  the  colour  of  his  own  age.  They  count 
nothing  of  the  fact  that  he  had  passed  from 
the  Nonconformist  influence  to  the  Deist,  nor 
do  they  realise  the  vast  mass  of  indifferent 
Churchmanship  which  filled  the  first  half  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  Consequently,  Butler's 
thoughts  and  arguments  do  not  touch  our 
problems ;  they  deal  with  the  then  current  level 
of  thought  and  enquiry.  He  heard,  and  took 
part  in,  many  a  discussion  which  would  now 
not  be  possible.  While  preaching  at  the  Rolls, 
he  faced  a  materialistic  world  with  the  hard  facts 
of  human  nature.  To  those  who  had  no  spirit- 
world,  he  brought  no  arguments  from  that  higher 
sphere.  His  sermons,  which  for  shrewdness, 
power  of  observation,  application  of  common- 
sense,  have  never  been  surpassed,  have  often 
been    hailed    as    his    true     masterpieces.      And, 


^^l^C-'i^fiH*^C 


HIS   SERMONS  329 

indeed,  if  one  could  measure  out  infinity  witli 
the  foot-rule  of  common-sense,  Butler's  level 
philosophy  of  daily  work  and  life  would  have 
done  it  marvellously  well.  Only,  the  spiritual 
world,  in  which  Jesus  Christ  is  oin*  inspirer 
and  teacher,  plays  but  a  very  slight  part 
in  these  Aristotelian  discourses.  They  give  us 
a  prophecy,  an  early  forecast  of  the  relations 
that  will  presently  have  to  be  secured  between 
Evolution — that  conscious  or  unconscious  effort 
of  man  to  raise  both  himself,  and  God's  creatures 
around  him,  to  a  higher  level — and  the  solemn 
burden  of  man's  continual  responsibility ;  until  by 
their  combination  man  rises  to  become  aware  of 
a  higher  world  of  law  and  duty  :  a  rise  from  an 
earthly  level  to  a  nobler  plane ;  from  the  material 
man,  fed  on  probabilities,  to  the  man  of  reason  and 
high  convictions,  and,  in  the  end,  of  the  Spirit. 

Dealing  with  opinions  as  they  ran  in  his  day, 
Butler  could  scarcely  have  risen  in  argument  to 
these  higher  levels,  though  in  his  own  life — as 
we  see  from  his  love  for  good  music,  his  special 
preference  for  the  ^Mystics,  for  Lives  of  Saints, 
or,  perhaps,  rather  for  the  thoughts  of  iniworldly 


im)     AN   ADDRESS   ON    BISHOP  BUTLER 

and    pious    souls — he    was   well    aware    of   these 
higher  levels.      Still    his    argumentative   lines   of 
thought  ran   close   along  the   earth,   and   he   has 
been    mercilessly    criticised    and    condemned    by 
idealists   of   another   age.      He   was    too   prosaic, 
say  some.      "This    perpetual   going  afoot,"   cries 
Tholuck,   the   great   Lutheran    preacher,   "makes 
one   very  weary,   especially   when,   as   in   him,   it 
is    going    afoot    through    sand."      At    an    earlier 
moment   Pitt  declared  that  the   "Analogy"  was 
"  a   dangerous    book,   raising    more    doubts    than 
it   solves " ;   and    later,   James    Martineau   openly 
declares   that  the   "Analogy"   has   "unintention- 
ally   furnished    one    of    the    most    terrible    per- 
suasions   to   Atheism   ever   produced."      That  is, 
he    creates    a    new    and    deeper    scepticism    by 
showing  that  what  difficulties  exist  in   Theology 
exist   also   in    Natural    Religion    and    in    Nature 
herself:   and  for  all  this  he  has  no  solution.     A 
sad  end  for  the  "  Calm  Philosophy  of  Butler,"  as 
a    modern    historian,   dealing  with    the    days    of 
CaroUne  of  Anspach,  calls  his  work.     No  doubt 
we  have   in   it   an   echo   of  the  daily  discussions 
which   went  on   at   the   Queen's   supper-table,   in 


THE   SUPPERS   OF   QUEEN   CAROTJNE   331 

wliich  that  ambitious  lady  sat  as  an  interested 
listener,  and,  as  was  said,  firmly  believed  that 
she  understood  it  all.  Yet  there  is  something 
quite  noble  in  such  an  ambition ;  to  desire  to 
hear  such  things  ennobles ;  and  her  guidance  of 
George  11.  showed  that  she  had  a  practical  gift. 
"  In  no  period,"  says  Mr  Green,  '*  of  the  English 
Church  had  the  ecclesiastical  patronage  of  the 
Crown  been  better  directed."  In  that  little 
society  there  were  three  ruling  lines :  ( 1 )  the 
Sacredness  of  Toleration  and  fi-ee  speech;  (2) 
submission  to  the  rule  of  Keason ;  and,  as  a 
base,  (3)  an  appeal  to  facts,  and  to  the  average 
sense  and  capacity  of  men ;  and  under  this  last 
was  included  a  loyal  submission  to  truth.  With 
this,  no  "  enthusiasm " ;  no  appeal  to  that  sweet 
organ,  the  imagination ;  no  consciousness  of  a 
spiritual   side   to   man's   nature. 

Amidst  these  conditions  Butler  lived  and 
thought.  He  seized  at  once  the  positions  granted 
by  the  Deists ;  that  is,  a  belief  in  God,  in  the 
general  laws  of  His  rule  in  the  world,  and  at 
least  an  acquiescence  in  the  doctrine  of  a  Future 
State.     On  these  he  builds  up  his  fabric.     By  so 


-332     AN   ADDRESS   OX   BISHOP   BUTLER 

doing  he  closed  for  ever  the  old  Deist  controversy ; 
and  this,  in  the  main,  was  the  chief  effect  of  the 
'*  Analogy." 

Who  can   blame   him   if  this   masterpiece,   in 
which,    as    one   of    this    Cathedral    Church    has 
elsewhere  well   said,   "he    is    to    Theology  what 
Bacon  is  to  Science,"  is  cast  in  the  experimental 
and   inductive   mould,   rising  from   the   premises, 
not  discussed   because  the  Deists  accepted  them, 
and    carried    on   with    infinite    skill    and    logical 
sequence   to   the   end.     Still,   he   is    blamed,   and 
severely.     Our  modern  and  more  intuitive  thinkers 
cannot   endure   his  lower   level.     His   doctrine   of 
Rewards  and  Punishments  they  loudly  declare  to 
be  a  disgrace  to  religion,  and   a  lowering  of  the 
dignity   of  man's   nature.     To   say,    "  accept  this 
as  true,   because   it   has   probability   on   its   side ; 
and   indeed,   if  it   turns   out   really  to   be   truth, 
and  you  have  refused   it,  what   a   loser  you   will 
be — for  good  things  in  this  world  valued   at   ten, 
you  miss  the  future  good,  valued  at  a  million ; — 
therefore,  whatever   you  think,  it   is   prudence  to 
accept  the   way   of   safety."      Stated   so   harshly, 
Butler's    argument    has    revolted    many   a    high- 


OBJECTIONS   TO   THE    'ANALOGY"      333 

spirited  youth,  yearning  for  ideals,  and  seeking 
truth  for  its  own  sake  and  not  for  any  reward. 
There  are  many  who  have  in  them  something 
of  St  Paul's  devotion  to  the  truth,  when  he  was 
ready  to  make  himself  an  anathema  from  Christ 
for  the  brethren's  sake,  risking  his  whole  future 
to  win  some  beloved  soul,  for  whom  he  gladly 
gives  all,  and  makes  no  count  of  loss  or  gain. 

Many,  too,  have  felt  that  the  practical  and 
subjective  fashion  in  which  Butler  defends  the 
work  of  conscience  is  a  slight  on  God's  power, 
as  though  by  our  conscience,  and  by  no  other 
means,  we  become  cognisant  of  the  higher 
quality  which  we  call  God's  will. 

And  the  gi-avest  objection  has  still  to  come. 
They  say  of  Butler  that  he  had  no  spiritual 
insight,  and  that,  in  the  light  of  our  present  con- 
troversies, we  find  him  too  shallow,  too  logical, 
too  unconscious  of  the  higher  spiritual  powers. 
AVho  now  would  dare  to  commend  religion  on 
prudential  considerations  ?  Who  would  dream 
of  commending  morality,  and  the  love  of  God, 
to  our  present  man  of  action  because  of  the 
prudential   aspects   of    it  i      Who   would,   of    set 


034     AN   ADDRESS   ON   BISHOP  BUTLER 

purpose,  shut  his  eyes  to  the  higher  phenomena 
of  the  breast  of  man?  Yet,  in  the  main,  this  is 
what  Butler  does.  To  quote  one  of  the  phrases 
of  his  day,  "  Rehgion  is  a  useful  piece  of  infor- 
mation, concerning  a  distant  region,  of  which 
otherwise  we  should  have  had  no  exploration " ; 
as  to  religion  swaying  the  souls  of  men,  this  is 
outside  the  argument.  Let  there  be  no  new 
birth  of  rejoicing  Christians  ;  none  of  those  higher 
inspirations  which,  by  changing  the  spring  and 
motive  of  life,  set  going  whole  beginnings  of  a 
new  religious  history.  No  wonder  that,  when  he 
was  Bishop  of  Bristol,  Butler  heard  with  alarm 
of  a  certain  enthusiast,  one  John  A¥esley,  a 
clergyman,  a  gentleman,  well  educated,  who  was 
making  no  little  stir  in  the  Diocese,  by  preaching 
to  the  Kingswood  colhers.  The  Bishop  sent  for 
him,  talked  hke  a  friend  with  him,  let  him  lay 
out  his  views  at  some  length.  In  the  end  he 
ordered  him  to  leave  the  Diocese,  as  he  had  no 
license  to  preach  there ;  indeed,  he  was  quite 
incapable  of  understanding  Wesley's  fine  reply : 
"  No  license !  Nay,  but  I  have ;  I  preach  as  a 
Priest    of    God's    Churcli    universal."       And    so 


THE   FAVOURABLE   VIEW   OF   IT        335 

Wesley  was  cast  out,  nor  was  there  one  word  of 
recognition  and  sympathy  for  him,  nor  any  that 
cared,  save  the  poor  coUiers  of  Kings  wood. 

After  all  these  objections,  it  is  time  for  us  to 
ask  what  is  there  on  the  other  side?  Happily 
there  is  much. 

1.  When  Butler  was  still  but  a  lad,  under 
twenty-one  years  of  age,  he  had  already  set  him- 
self to  his  task.  "  I  made,"  lie  said,  "  the  search 
after  truth  the  business  of  my  life."  From  this 
he  never  flinched ;  most  of  us  let  truth  slip  by, 
as  it  did  from  Pilate :  but  as  a  principle  of  life 
this  intensity  for  truth  gave  striking  unity  to  all 
he  wrote  and  did. 

2.  For,  above  all,  he  was  a  very  honest  man — 
in  argument  and  in  hfe.  It  gleams  out  of  his 
closely-reasoned  theses,  as  well  as  tlirough  the 
fearless  and  uncourtierlike  replies  which  he  sent, 
when  offers  of  preferment  with  conditions  were 
made  to  him.  He  would  neither  overstate  nor 
overrate  his  arguments,  or  treat  those  of  his 
opponents  unfairly.  He  impresses  us  throughout 
as  of  a  true  simplicity  and  greatness  of  soul  in  a 
dark  and  doubting  age.     He  was  fair,  truth-loving. 


336     AN   ADDRESS   ON   BISHOP  BUTLER 

free  from  all  sordid  aims  and  ambitions  ;  with  level 
and  great  mental  capacity,  and  of  an  unflinching 
courage  to  say  all  he  thought.  "  Indirectly,"  says 
one  of  his  critics,  "  in  consequence  of  the  high  mental 
and  moral  qualities  with  which  his  work  is  charac- 
terised, the  'Analogy'  may  be  allowed  to  be  of 
abiding  worth  to  the  cause  of  Christian  doctrine." 

3.  Nor  is  it  a  small  thing,  that  the  stem-lines 
of  his  "  Analogy "  have  ever  since  influenced  all 
reasoning.  Drummond's  "  Natural  Law  in  the 
Spiritual  World"  is  an  example  among  many. 
Even  so  dissimilar  a  mind  as  Newman's  shows 
constant  signs  of  Butler's  vigorous  thought.  It 
is  by  Analogy,  patiently  learning  from  God's 
natural  world,  and  by  Evolution,  slowly  watching 
the  course  of  nature,  that  the  main  lines  of  our 
modern  thought  and  modern  theology  are  affected. 

4.  And  though  we  must  accept  the  wise  saw 
that  "  the  arguments  of  one  age  carry  no  convic- 
tion to  the  mind  of  another  age,"  still  we  see 
clearly  that  Butler's  arguments  are  so  well  based 
that  they  still,  after  a  hundred  and  fifty  years, 
are  distinctly  vahd,  within  their  limits,  and  still 
command  assent  so  far  as  they  reach. 


CONTEMPORARY   THOUGHT  337 

5.  But  the  most  remarkable  thing  about 
Butler  is  the  effect  seen  in  the  striking  contrast 
in  the  progress  of  opinion  in  France  and  England 
during  the  eighteenth  centmy.  The  "  Analogy  " 
stemmed  the  tide  of  Deism  in  this  country,  and, 
being  penetrated  with  the  two  thoughts  of  Tolera- 
tion and  Advance,  formed  a  strong  social  basis 
for  the  difficult  times  coming  on.  Religion  in 
England  was  less  mixed  up  with  political  ferment 
than  in  France ;  the  Church  not  so  much  tied  as 
that  of  France  was  to  a  perishing  INIonarchy ; 
the  spread  of  free  Dissent  in  England  was  an 
immense  and  blessed  relief  to  the  pent-up  re- 
hgious  feeling  of  the  country.  We  shall  never 
acknowledge  what  we  owe  to  the  Wesleys  and 
to  Methodism.  Nothing  perhaps  helped  England 
so  much  to  weather  the  great  storm.  Deism  in 
France  and  in  Voltaire's  hands  was  a  secret 
dynamite :  in  England  it  was  replaced  by  the 
tolerant  and  peaceful  enthusiasm  of  the  Wesleys 
and  Wliitfield.  It  is  perhaps  not  too  much  to 
say  that  English  Toleration,  helped  by  a  good 
strain  of  English   common-sense,  and  perhaps  by 

some   stupidity,  saved   us   from  the  throes  which 

Y 


338     AN  ADDRESS   ON   BISHOP   BUTLER 

tore  in  pieces  the  ancient  fabric  of  our  neighbours' 
pohty. 

Such  is  the  man  whom,  after  a  hundred  and 
fifty  years  of  neglect,  we  are  met  to-day  to  honour. 
While  Bristol,  where  Butler  is  buried,  has  a  due 
monument  over  him,  Durham  thought  so  little 
of  his  "joint  and  one  pudding"  that  she  has  left 
him  in  complete  oblivion.  It  was  a  natural  and 
very  kindly  indignation  at  such  gross  stupidity 
and  neglect  that  induced  our  kind  friend.  Lord 
Northbourne,  to  offer  to  undertake  the  whole 
cost  of  a  Memorial  to  the  modest  and  simple 
Bishop.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  we  accept  the 
offer  with  real  gratitude.  It  takes  from  us  a  slur 
of  indifference ;  it  will  add  much  to  the  interest 
of  the  Cathedral ;  it  may  even  lead  some  anxious 
persons  to  enquire  who  Bishop  Butler  was. 

This  Memorial  requires  a  word  of  explanation. 
The  gifted  and  very  ingenious  artist,  to  whose 
hands  Lord  Northbourne  entrusted  the  task, 
grasped  at  once  the  essence  of  his  problem,  and 
set  himself  to  translate  into  stone  the  stem- 
principle  of  the  "  Analogy."  Out  of  mother 
earth    springs   a   strong   vine :     it   takes  naturally 


THE   TABLET   DESCRIBED  339 

the  form  of  a  cross,  and  round  the  point  of  inter- 
section is  woven  the  Crown  of  Thorns.  The 
leaves  and  grapes,  on  the  other  hand,  indicate 
that  God's  love  and  goodness  triumph  over  pain ; 
the  leaves  of  that  tree  are  for  the  healing  of 
the  nations.  Here,  then,  is  the  stem-doctrine 
of  Christianity,  a  central  lesson  of  suffering  and 
pain,  and  with  it  this  ultimate  fruit  of  consolation. 
Behind  this  symboUc  tree  the  sun  rises  on  the 
one  side,  the  moon  on  the  other,  and  round  it 
is  the  circuit  of  the  stars,  which  sang  for  joy. 
In  these  are  symbolised  the  natural  growth  of 
religion  and  life ;  a  pleasing  and  simple  lesson. 

Underneath  are  two  coats  of  arms,  those  of 
Bristol  Diocese  (placed  first,  not  because  that 
Diocese  was  higher  than  Durham,  but  because 
Butler  was  there  first),  and  on  the  other  side 
those  of  Durham.  And  lastly,  you  will  see  a 
long  inscription,  bearing  witness  in  full  and 
sonorous  English  to  the  excellency  of  this  most 
renowned  of  our  Bisliops.  This  inscription  will 
surely  always  be  interesting  to  us,  because  it 
was  the  last  piece  of  composition  which  was 
ever  written    (if  perhaps   we   except   one  or   two 


34.0     AN   ADDRESS   ON    BISHOP   BUTLER 

private  notes)  by  the  hand  of  Mr  Gladstone. 
You  will  see  in  this  some  of  the  fine  roll  of 
the  old  man's  eloquence.  No  one  ever  rejoiced 
more  at  this  token  of  honour  done  to  Butler's 
memory.  He  dates  the  original  inscription, 
"W.E.G.,  September  23,  1897." 

The  inscription  runs  as  follows : — 

Sacred 
To  the  Memory  of 

JOSEPH  BUTLER, 

Born  a.d.  1692 

Died  a.d.  1752 

Surpassed  by  none 

Whether  ou  the  long  line  of  Bishops  of  the  See 

Or  among  the 

Christian  philosophers  of  England 

Adapting  the  tone  of  his  language 

To  the  exigencies  of  his  holy  cause 

He  could  use  a  severe  self-restraint 

But  could  also  rise 
To  the  heights  of  a  fervid  devotion 

His  characteristic  strength  lay 

In  a  habit  profoundly  meditative 

In  the  proportion  and  measure  of  his  thought 

In  searching  mental  vision  "^ 

In  the  concentration  of  a  life 
And  in  humble  unswerving  loyalty  to  truth. 

This,    then,    is    the   Memorial :    and    I    think 


THE   INSCRIPTION   ON   IT  341 

that  the  good  Bishop,  of  whom  Surtees  wrote, 
"  That  he  retained  the  same  genuine  modesty 
and  native  sweetness  of  disposition  which  had 
distinguished  him  in  youth  or  in  retirement," 
would  have  felt  a  pleasant  wave  of  gratification 
at  this  recognition  of  his  worth,  n^pl  rovs  KeKfiriKora's  et 

Ttvos    dya$ov    KOLViavovcnv  .    .    .    £/c    rovrtav    el    kul  SiiKveiTai   nphs 

avTovs  oTLovv — if  in  that  dim  and  unknown  world 
thin  tidings  trickle  through,  as  to  the  doings 
of  one's  descendants. 

Such,  then,  was  Joseph  Butler,  for  whom 
that  other  great  Bishop  Joseph  of  Durham,  by 
whose  stately  monument  we  stand,  felt  so  deep 
a  reverence,  that  he  rejoiced  to  inscribe  on  the 
walls  of  the  garden  at  Auckland  Castle,  that  he, 
in  carrying  on  Butler's  work  there,  was  himself 
the  "  Josephus  alter"  of  the  See. 

"  He  likes  not  to  have  his  life  wrote  while 
he  is  living "  (Rawlinson  MSS.) ;  and  Durham 
has  been  under  the  spell  of  this  feeling  till  this 
day.  At  last  the  spell  is  broken ;  and  those 
who  come  to  see  this  splendid  Church  will 
have  no  reason  for  complaining  that  the  Cathedral 
has    systematically    put   her   bishops    away,    and 


342     AN   ADDRESS    ON   BISHOP   BUTLER 

left  no  records  of  the  greatest  of  them  all.  That 
this  is  no  longer  so  is  due,  not  to  us,  but  to  the 
liberal  enthusiasm  of  one  whose  generous  gift 
to  the  Cathedral  we  now  unveil  with  a  strong 
expression  of  our  gratitude  for  the  thought  and 
for  the  gift,  and  for  the  sympathy  it  shows  with 
the  true  simplicity  and  greatness  of  Bishop  Butler's 
life,  work,  and  character. 


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